Tears of the Sun
by mesmerizedbyceruleaneyes
Summary: AU. Yukimura and Sanada are facing off on opposite sides of the law. When laws are bendable, you don't want to be the one defending them. Alpha, Platinum, Dirty, Royal, Thrill, Rhythm, MizuYuu among others. Rating T-M, disclaimer on my profile.
1. I Kimi Omou Yoru

Tears of the Sun

When Yukimura came to the apartment Niou shared with his best friend Yagyuu, the last thing the silver-haired man expected was for his old friend to catch hold his hands and stare fiercely into his eyes, saying, "Teach me how to swindle."

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"A hundred yen, that's all. What you'll get is ten times the amount you pay me."

How many times had he spoken those words? But it worked. A hundred yen wasn't very much. At the most, the person he spoke to would pass over the small silver coin in exchange for the token – lavender flowers, pressed and preserved to perfection onto a laminated card – that the seller would give them as proof.

Every time, they would get the promised amount within a week. Its source varied widely. Sometimes a friend suddenly remembered to pay a long-forgotten debt. Sometimes they received an unexpected bonus from their company. Sometimes their stocks rose for no apparent reason. Whatever the method, they received the amount.

Later, the seller would return. To take back his token, he would say. Every time, the buyer would want to keep it. Some out of curiosity; some out of greed; some, out of desperation or pressure from their families… Whatever it was, they would keep it. Naturally, they would pay a larger amount to test whether what had happened was coincidence or really a result of listening to this door-to-door salesperson.

This second time, they would once again receive the promised amount. This proved to them that the salesperson was for real. They gave the return, just as they'd said they would. Logically, the amounts of money handed over grew.

Buyers would soon start treating the seller as a friend or a business partner. The amount of money involved in each transaction would grow bigger and bigger. Then, all of a sudden, the seller would no longer visit; when the buyer tried to locate him, no trace of him could be found, as though he had never existed at all. Almost simultaneously, the buyer's stocks will fall, their companies would demote them, and debts would appear from nowhere – all sorts of monetary misfortune. Much more would be lost than what they had gained through their interaction with the salesperson. And a card, the same type as the one they'd bought, would arrive in their mail. On the flip side would be written, "Thank you very much, as always", signed with three words – 黒詐偽 (Kurosagi).

Buyers always thought that the all-black outfit was individual dress sense. They never knew they'd been swindled by an underworld organization.

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_Introduction: _

_Shindai is the capital of Japan, after Tokyo was leveled by a nuclear accident in the Third World War. _

_Farsighted leaders of that time had prepared for just such an accident, secretly isolating the country's most talented youths and gifted children on the reclaimed island, Tengi (__天喜__), at the limits of Japanese waters in the Pacific. They escaped the disaster, unscathed, and went on to build a city of their own. This city was named Shindai (__神代__), City of the Gods._

_Centuries after its formation, Shindai flourished, a city of past and present, with groundbreaking technology built into Edo-period architecture. The young talents who had founded it had made sure to preserve their roots while growing and adapting with the present times._

_City planning, social hierarchy and even governance were modeled on traditional Edo- and Meiji-era examples. The emperor was still a religious figurehead; the old shogun, however, was replaced by a 'king' – usually the most influential or successful businessman, instead of the most influential or successful warrior as it had been a millennium ago._

_In Shindai, law was bendable as long as one could argue his point. If the criminal claimed that there was a loophole in the law and managed to persuade the jury of this, he would be freed and the lawmaker would be punished for making a flawed law. Thus the line between lawful and unlawful, right and wrong, was blurred to the extent that people could have one foot on either side and feel no difference._

_It is in this strange, self-contradictory city, this large-scale manifestation of a paradox where lawmakers and lawbreakers can be one and the same, that we meet our favorite characters._

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_**I – Kimi Omou Yoru (Nights I Think of You)**_

Yukimura collapsed into an armchair, pulling off his black wig. He'd been masquerading as a female again.

"Were today's customers difficult to persuade?" inquired Yanagi from where he sat at a desk typing into a computer.

The blunette let out a sigh. "Tougher than usual. We might have to move on to a different region of Tokyo. They seem to be on edge because their neighbor just got swindled." His eyes glinted. "Coincidentally, I believe it was Niou who took care of them."

"I see." Yanagi finished what he was working on and turned to look at his best friend. "Niou's still out in the field?"

"When he has time," nodded Yukimura. "He likes to practice, even though his network is in top form."

"As is ours," the brunette reminded him. "Why do _you_ insist on doing field work yourself?"

Yukimura let out a short bark of laughter. "Because unless I do, it'd feel like I'm doing nothing but sit back and watch the money roll in."

"That _is_ the ideal." Niou strolled in leisurely, taking in the darkened room with the many computer screens as its only source of light apart from the dim streetlights outside the window. "That's what should be done by the criminal masterminds, _but_… I personally like it." He grinned.

Yanagi didn't even twitch at the sudden appearance of the silver-haired trickster. "Yes, but you're only swindling because you think it is fun. Yukimura –"

"Quiet, Renji," interrupted the beautiful blunette. The added _Niou doesn't need to know_ didn't need to be spoken. Yanagi understood easily.

Niou yawned widely. "Ah, I know already. You needn't be so uptight. You're doing this to slap ol' Sanada in the face, aren't you?"

The other two occupants of the room were quiet. Niou took the opportunity to continue. "I hear he's the most likely candidate to take the place of the old Police First Deputy Commissioner." He snorted. "After all this time, he still believes in justice. Both of you got swindled by the same guy, if I remember correctly. What was his name… ah, Echizen, that's it, Echizen Ryoma. Swindled you clean. Ten billion bucks in total. The guy's a genius."

"Niou, I think –" began Yanagi, with a cautious glance at his companion.

"No, it's fine. Go on. I want to see how much you know," said Yukimura, smiling.

It wasn't a very friendly smile, what with the flash of teeth and all, but Niou ignored it. "You couldn't get any evidence on him, though. Neither could Sanada. So the police kicked you out. I mean, they aren't going to produce a warrant of arrest for the king's boyfriend with nothing more than the word of a couple of commoners."

"However…" Niou looked at the blunette, his eyes showing his confusion. "You came to me and asked me to teach you how to swindle. Of all things, you became a swindler. Why?"

"Saa… you just told a whole long story, and you still don't know?" Yukimura sounded almost teasing.

"Nope. The only reason I can come up with is that you need funds, but you don't – I know your account books like my own," replied Niou. "You can't be going for revenge, because you aren't targeting Echizen. In any case, your tactic can't be used on him. He's got all the money he'd ever need or want, being the king's boyfriend."

"Atobe-sama spoils him," commented Yanagi. "But that's to be expected."

Yukimura stood up. "Figure it out yourself. You're the Petenshi here." Walking towards the door, he added, "Don't wake me up tomorrow, Renji. I wish to sleep in."

He was gone in a swish of black silk.

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"So, now that he's gone, do you mind telling me exactly what's wrong with him?" inquired Niou, taking Yukimura's place in the armchair.

Yanagi raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that a significant amount of the content of your speech was wrong."

Niou shrugged, nonchalant. "I don't care. Tell me."

"Yukimura's broken," stated the brunette matter-of-factly. "If a normal person's metaphorical heart is represented by a piece of cloth, Yukimura's would be torn and tattered to the point of irreparability. He lost what little sanity remained to him after his bout with leukemia when Sanada abandoned him."

"Ah… I knew Sanada had a finger in this pretty little mud pie," commented Niou. "But he's married already. Does Yukimura want him back or something?"

Yanagi thought about it for a moment. "No. But allow me to finish." He turned back to one of the computers. "I have done extensive research into Yukimura's motives behind the creation of Kurosagi, and concluded that his swindling by Echizen Ryoma actually only played a small role. In truth, the whole ten billion was swindled from Sanada."

Surprised, Niou sat up. "But –"

"Officially, it was announced that a total of ten billion was swindled from Sanada and Yukimura," interrupted Yanagi. "However, I went through Yukimura's accounts extremely meticulously – and found that five billion, supposedly from Yukimura, actually came from a bank account Yukimura had originally shared with Sanada. A bank account from which Yukimura had withdrawn all his money a mere fortnight before when he and Sanada broke up."

Niou whistled. "Smart guy. He planned it, didn't he?"

Nodding, Yanagi said, "That is the conclusion I came to. By the time Echizen came to carry out his job, Sanada was engaged to be married – with the fiancée his parents had arranged for him when they were barely three months old. Yukimura shredded the invitation to the ceremony."

"That's to be expected. Sanada's a real rock-head for thinking that Yukimura would let it go just like that," muttered the silver-haired man. "Hell, they were together for five years straight. Since we turned eighteen."

"Yes, I thought Sanada insensitive too," agreed Yanagi. "In any case, Echizen swindled Sanada just before going on to Yukimura. He knew about what happened to Sanada, and he knew Echizen was the culprit. But instead of hauling him off to the police, Yukimura asked Echizen to teach him to swindle. He wanted to be able to cause the kind of pain Echizen had given Sanada."

"He wanted to swindle Sanada?" asked Niou, curious.

The brunette shook his head. "No. I think that what Yukimura wanted was to spread pain to the rest of humankind. His belief is that if he suffered, others should as well."

"That," began Niou, sounding rather incredulous, "is one seriously warped way of thinking."

"I told you he lost his mind." Yanagi shrugged. "He was obsessed about this. After you taught him – not that I blame you – he came to me, and I decided to help him out with the technical area of things. Both you and I were keys to his becoming Kurosagi."

Niou nodded thoughtfully. "'Black Swindler', eh. Did he ever mention why 'black'?"

"Well, _you_'re called Shirosagi (White Swindler) in the underworld," Yanagi reminded him. "As we both know, Aosagi (Blue Swindler) is a general term for male or business swindlers while Akasagi (Red Swindler) is a general term for female or emotion swindlers. Kurosagi seems to be one of the few colors left. Also, 'black' _does_ fit his supposed image of an angel of death."

"… I see." Wandering over to the computers, Niou raised his eyebrows, impressed, at the spectacle. Screen after screen of complicated information stood on the table ledge that wrapped three-quarters of the room. Stocks. Bank deficits. Trade relations. Everything that Yukimura's swindling scheme did or might require. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

Yanagi smiled slightly. "Sadaharu works for the police. It would be an unfair advantage for Sanada if I didn't help Yukimura out."

"Ah, so you're just doing this to upstage Inui," smirked Niou. "I should've known."

The brunette ignored the comment, turning to a computer screen that had a flashing red arrow erratically tracing a graph of something Niou didn't bother asking about. "Do you have so much time to spare, Niou? I believe Yagyuu's waiting for you."

Niou looked up immediately. "Damn. I forgot," he muttered. "Well, see you around then."

The data master was once again alone in the dark room with his computers and their statistics, graphs, and information.

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Yukimura stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. "He still hasn't taken up the challenge," he murmured softly to himself.

He'd thought Sanada would be determinedly and noisily trying to track down the mastermind of this widespread swindling case. Clues abounded – the way files of information on Kurosagi vanished within days from every single computer or any similar technological storage device reeked of the presence of an accomplished data master; the cruel, final blow of the 'thank-you card' received by the victims was something only a precious few were sadistic enough to carry out.

Sanada _had_ to know that his one-time lover was behind this. If he didn't, he was a lot more useless than he had been before. If he didn't, this entire set-up was a waste of time, money and effort.

Turning over in his bed, Yukimura thought, _He's denying my existence. But I will __force__ him to acknowledge me – by whatever means necessary._

He reached out to his bedside table, groping for his cell phone. Having located it, he quickly pressed 3 then speed dial.

The ringing went on for quite a while. Normal people _would_ be asleep at this time, reasoned Yukimura. It _was _well past midnight already.

Just when he was about to give up, the call was picked up. "Mmmph… whaddahell d'ya wan', callin' at such 'n unholy hour?" mumbled the other person.

Yukimura felt himself smile, just a little. "Akaya, it's me."

"Y-Yukimura-san!" The voice immediately changed in tone. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude or anything; I really –"

"Akaya," interrupted Yukimura. "It's fine."

"Oh." Akaya's frantic rush of speech screeched to a halt. "Okay. So… erm… why did you call?"

"I have a favor to ask of you, Akaya," began the pretty blunette.

"Anything for you, Yukimura-san," was the eager reply. Akaya's devoted adoration of Yukimura was no secret to anyone but himself.

The small smile on Yukimura's lips stretched slightly. "Get Sanada put in charge of the Kurosagi case. Do whatever needs to be done."

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Across the city, Sanada was only just sliding under his sheets. It had been a long day of work, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to enjoy deep, dreamless and immediate sleep.

Yet, strangely, sleep did not come. Tossing and turning was not an option, since that would wake up his wife. Suppressing a sigh of frustration, he lay on his side and stared straight ahead, out of the window.

A picture on the window ledge caught his eye, though he could barely remember the last time he'd looked at it. It was a candid shot of himself and Yukimura, the latter smiling happily at the camera while the former kept his usual stoic façade.

Unbidden, his mind compared the Yukimura in the old photograph with his last, already fading memory of his ex-boyfriend – the laughing eyes become red and swollen from furious tears, the soft, sweet voice turned hoarse and cracked from screams, the serenity he had once seemed to embody buried beneath the desperate insanity that had taken over him, evident in his reckless hurling of any object that was within his reach.

Sanada knew well that he had caused Yukimura to lose his mind. He did sometimes feel a pang of regret that he had destroyed a fellow human being's ability to feel, to trust, to believe. But that Yukimura would turn into a swindler was something he had never thought would happen.

It had to be Yukimura behind this troublesome Kurosagi case. Inui had immediately recognized his old friend Renji's hand in the proceedings upon initiation into the case soon after his promotion. The strange consideration of aesthetics reminded him strongly of Yukimura. Plus, he knew Yanagi and Yukimura had always got along well.

It was his fault the city suffered from the Kurosagi, because it was he who had turned Yukimura into Kurosagi. He would have to take responsibility for this.

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**A/N: I have returned to the PoT fandom! And just in time too, I hope… I wanted to keep this ficcy in reserve for a while longer, then realized that fandoms do eventually die off when the anime stops airing (the PoT Next Story random eps do not count .). So here it is, my first AU fic ever, involving what feels like the largest cast of characters ever in a universe that obeys no one but me, the great Ore-sama XD**

**This is really just to test the waters. I'll be back in a few weeks time with the next installment (exams, exams, exams) so I hope you liked this enough to wait for me :-X I personally don't particularly like my beginning, but this was the best I could get it to be :-S**

**By the way, this is a average-length multichap by my standards, so you have been warned ;-D The chapter titles (and actually the fic title too) are all songs by J-pop boy band NEWS under JE, one of my favorites. I chose the titles for their names rather than the songs they represent, so there's no need to know the song to understand the ficcy (though listening to them is always good ^^).**

**Please Review! I'd really like to know what you think ^^ any kind of constructive feedback is welcome!**


	2. II Akaku Moyuru Taiyou

_**II – Akaku Moyuru Taiyou (Red Burning Sun)**_

It was already close to noon when Yukimura finally descended the stairs – still yawning and bleary-eyed – to find something to eat. Entering the dining room, he blinked at Yanagi and his companion. "… Akaya?"

The green-eyed boy got out of his chair at once and bowed deeply. "Good morning, Yukimura-san."

"… 'morning," repeated Yukimura, still rather lost. "Renji, why –"

"I invited Akaya to lunch. Apparently you contacted him last night over the matter of forcing Sanada into the Kurosagi case," explained Yanagi. "Do sit; I'll pour tea."

Obeying, the pretty blunette propped his head in his hand while resting his elbows on the table. "So, Akaya, do you mean to say that you have achieved success in less than twelve hours?"

Akaya shook his head. "No, Yukimura-san. Sanada –"

" – has personally requested to head the case," Yanagi finished for him. "And his first action as such has been to send out his men in an effort to locate you."

"A futile attempt." Although Yukimura phrased it as a statement, it clearly was a question.

Yanagi, of course, understood. "He will not be able to locate us due to the scattered nature of your property in the city as well as a certain number of them being registered under various pseudonyms. Naturally, I took the extra precaution of planting false trails in the company system once I received information of the search."

Yukimura nodded approvingly. "Good work. How long do we have before it becomes a pressing issue?"

"I estimate that we have between a fortnight to a month before their chances become high enough to require our attention," replied the data master. "However, it is clear that he is extremely suspicious of us – he has very likely guessed that you are the one behind it."

"Um…" Kirihara, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly ventured into the conversation. When both the older men looked at him, he said hesitantly, "I think I should go, since I've already told you what I was supposed to…"

The blunette considered for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Expect a call soon – you're likely to be a part of this… scheme, I suppose you'd call it."

Kirihara blinked, then beamed. "Thank you, Yukimura-san! I'll be going, then!"

Watching his friend wave the boy away with a smile, Yanagi observed, "You seem to have taken a liking to him…"

"Hmm? No; it's nothing like that, Renji," assured Yukimura. "You're jumping to conclusions."

"If you say so… Well, I'll clear this up first." The data master busied himself with the dishes, effectively keeping his face hidden from the pretty blunette.

Yukimura's lips quirked slightly. "You know, I_ did_ employ a maid for a reason."

"Clearing up after oneself is a good habit to cultivate," replied the other man neutrally, carrying the aforementioned dishes to the kitchen where the maid relieved him of the burden.

Certain things, Yanagi ruminated, were best left unknown to Yukimura. Certain things – such as who, exactly, Kirihara Akaya was.

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As if I'd think of Akaya _that_ way, thought Yukimura with not a little derision. He's cute, I'll give him that, but he's nothing compared to Sanada…

The blunette stopped and shook his head in an effort to keep his imagination from going in _that_ direction. Nope, he was _not_ going there.

Yukimura eased himself into the chair at his personal worktable, turning his computer on. He ought to notify those who might be affected by Sanada's move. While waiting for the monitor to start up, the pretty blunette activated the video-conferencing function of his cell phone, quickly typing in a number and placing the device such that the holographic projection produced would not be interfered with by its surroundings.

Even as the desktop computer loaded its startup files, the expected hologram flickered into life at Yukimura's eye level. He smiled – his calls to Marui Bunta were always accepted immediately; the redhead really took his order of 'drop everything and answer the phone if it's me or Renji on the line' to heart.

"Mura-san! What's up?" As usual, his voice was cheery and his manner casual. Precious few had both the daring and the permission to refer to Yukimura Seiichi in such an informal way, though of course the blunette had his reasons – Marui was an old friend, and a good one.

Of course, Marui wasn't a touch on Renji or Sanada (friendship-wise), but he had the ability to make Yukimura feel better in just about any situation. How he did it, Yukimura didn't know. The redhead was also an excellent source of social information on just about every kind of person – from the lower classes to the aristocracy, from the offices to the bars, people of all ages and backgrounds. He could safely say he knew or was in some way connected to a good cross-section of the local society.

Marui was, in short, a first-class gossipmonger, one adept at gathering information of what the general population knew, one skilled in the spreading and tracing of rumors. The compact redhead was as crafty as Niou, the widely feared Shirosagi and ultimate swindler, in his own, less apparent way.

"Hello, Marui," Yukimura greeted. "I wanted to inform you that Sanada is now in charge of the Kurosagi case. His first action –"

" – has been to search for you," finished Marui, popping his bubblegum. "I know. He's already got his boys sniffing around me."

Yukimura nodded, accepting the revelation without surprise. Sanada had known that Marui was one of his closest friends; that he was already closing in on the freelance confectioner was nothing unexpected. "I see. Did he appear personally?"

"Nope. His boys just kept an eye on me; didn't ask any questions." Marui twiddled his thumbs absently. "Personally, I'd expect him to go and find _you_ himself. He's probably just told them to watch those with known connections to you, and who has connections with us… not that that's going to work, since all of us know how to deal with such things."

"Yes, that you do," agreed the blunette. "I would suggest implementing our more serious measures against him, though. According to Renji, the police have Inui Sadaharu working with them. He will be difficult to fool, though Renji is the superior in these matters."

"Got it. I'll tell Jackal when he's home from work," said Marui, grinning cheerily. "He won't be very pleased with me… it's been only three weeks since I decided it'd be safe to pack up the spare cell phones…"

Yukimura chuckled. Marui's housemate, Jackal, had put up with the redhead for years, and as a result the long-suffering half-Brazilian went under along with him whenever Marui or his contacts got a little careless. "Break it to him gently," suggested the blunette. "I'll get in touch with you if anything comes up."

"Sure. I'll call too, if my girls and boys come in with anything juicy," replied the other. "See you around!"

The connection ended; the hologram vanished. Yukimura leant back in his chair, satisfied – it seemed that that particular end of things was doing fine. Marui was trustworthy, after all. Next, he needed to call up one Fuji Syuusuke…

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Few knew exactly who Kirihara Akaya was. In fact, Yanagi was almost willing to bet that apart from him, nobody knew. Almost, but not quite. There was always a chance that the boy's immediate family members knew, though whether or not they'd admit to it was something else entirely.

Yukimura had brought the teenager home more than a year ago without offering a satisfactory reason, and Yanagi instinctively refrained from asking delicate questions though he observed the green-eyed youth closely if discreetly. From the data Yanagi had gathered, Kirihara had seen Yukimura visiting one of his victims (though of course they didn't know it at that time), and out of curiosity had decided to follow him.

Naturally, Yukimura soon realized that he was being tailed, and shook the boy off easily. But each subsequent time he went to that particular victim's house, Kirihara would attempt to trail him, and in the end Yukimura decided to get to the bottom of the matter. Apparently the reason Kirihara gave pleased Yukimura to the extent of inviting the teen to join his swindling organization.

Yanagi Renji always did his homework. Once Kirihara was introduced to the organization, he went to research the green-eyed boy's background – and came up with… nothing.

Not literally nothing, but nothing sensible. Just remembering the headaches he'd suffered at the time made him feel slightly queasy. But Yanagi was nothing if not skilled at gathering data he wanted, and the very lack of data made him suspicious – perhaps even excited at the challenge. And thus he proceeded to sift through anything and everything that did or might have something to do with Kirihara Akaya from all available resources as well as unavailable ones (hacking into supposedly secure databases was much easier than most would think).

At the end of it all, the data master was able to put together the most complete story of Kirihara Akaya's life possible – and when he looked it over, he realized that the boy was a liability.

Kirihara Akaya was the bastard son of sports legend Echizen Nanjirou and famous model-actress Ira Kamiya. Her pregnancy was only made known to Echizen Nanjirou not long after he had become engaged to Rinko. Not wanting his fiancée to know about his numerous playboy indulgences, Echizen denied that the baby was his.

The unfortunate Kamiya could not ask for an abortion – she had already passed her first trimester, after which abortions were considered illegal by most governments and no respectable doctors would perform the operation. Yanagi had concluded that the woman's decision not to inform her former lover of her pregnancy was due to her belief that Echizen would marry her simply because she was carrying his child.

In a desperate bid to save her reputation, Kamiya hurriedly married a man by the name of Kirihara Goro. He was a rich foreign investor who had divorced his first wife and buried his second wife. He also had three children ranging in age from six to ten.

Their marriage lasted for four months, before Kamiya died of blood loss in premature childbirth. Kirihara Goro buried this third wife and named the baby boy Akaya, taking the 'ya' kanji from Kamiya's name and adding 'aka' (red) in memory of Kamiya's unique flame-red hair – or so Yanagi hypothesized.

One would have presumed that the child would have had a generally unremarkable life despite the chaos that arose from his conception. But life was never so simple.

Not only was Akaya weak and sickly for the first few years of his life, he was also treated as a harbinger of bad luck. From the time of his birth, Kirihara Goro's all-important foreign investments gradually began to take a turn for the worse, and when Akaya turned three, they failed completely.

It was only to be expected that the entire household looked on Akaya with hate and suspicion. All three older children struck out at him when frustrated at the lack of luxuries they had previously taken for granted. This continued for a few years, in which Goro got and almost immediately after lost several different jobs, finally securing one in an extensive franchise organization when Akaya was seven.

Yanagi shook his head in wonder at the workings of fate. This was too coincidental to be caused by simple, dumb luck – five years later, just before Akaya entered middle school, Goro was swindled along with hundreds of other fellow employees out of millions by the franchise boss. Heavily in debt and teetering on bankruptcy, he sold everything he owned and killed his three children in a hopeless bid for the money he would get from their life insurance.

What the man hadn't known, decided Yanagi, was that Kirihara Akaya had been honed for years to have a fierce will to live, if only to spite his family by his existence. The boy was the only one to escape Goro's desperate attack. Nothing less from a child who had been fighting with everything he had, since he entered the world, to live and to continue living no matter what.

The police found Kirihara Goro with a knife between his ribs among the bloodied bodies of his children. They concluded that the cause of death was suicide and, after a short search, declared Kirihara Akaya missing, presumed dead, before closing the case. As far as the legal authorities were concerned, Kirihara Akaya no longer existed.

To the best of the data master's deduction, from that point until Kirihara turned fourteen and resurfaced in the criminal underworld, the boy lived as another wild-eyed human stray flitting in the shadows of tiny back lanes and scavenging for food. Since the government believed Kirihara Akaya to be dead, Yanagi had turned to his other, perhaps more questionable source of information – Niou Masaharu, the Shirosagi, one of the best informed of the shadowy proceedings that were carried out on the other side of the law.

According to Niou, Kirihara had worked with some of his underlings for a time before starting to ask around for someone willing to teach him how to swindle. Most professional swindlers with sense would have turned the suspicious-looking teenager away without a second thought, but unexpectedly, it was none other than the infamous Fuji family who took young Akaya in.

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The Fuji family had two very different faces, one for each side of the law. On one hand, they were among the oldest and highest-ranked nobility, their private lives shrouded in mystery, yet nonetheless upright and dependable pillars of society. On the other, they were the most feared, most skilled, most ancient family of swindlers who had for generations perfected and preserved the art of the truest Akasagi.

Despite the term Akasagi usually used to refer to female swindlers, all members of the family, regardless of gender, were trained in the ways of an emotion swindler. In ancient times they were the most sought-after geisha of each city's respective 'floating world', collecting tremendous sums of money in gifts and favors from countless infatuated patrons; in the present they were the stunning hookers plying their trade in high-class bars and left their one-night stands after stripping their clients of money, jewelry, and credit cards. They were never caught or suspected.

How they maintained their legal good repute while still carrying out their hereditary activities unknown was the result of centuries of planning, hiding, calculating and predicting. No Fuji was allowed to marry or to have sexual relationships, at least not with the opposite gender, unless it was for job-related purposes such as marriage swindling (usually done by the Fuji females). Fuji females rarely if ever got pregnant or gave birth; the next generation was brought about through artificial fusion of necessary Fuji reproductive cells to form the required zygote before fostering in another woman, who carried the embryo until birth – whereupon the baby was taken back to the family and virtually sealed away from the public.

These safety measures had been practiced by the Fuji family for three generations already, and had been deemed successful. The authorities were kept in the dark about the number, name and even existence of any Fuji children. Furthermore, there was one final preventive measure – the children were barred from leaving the huge, self-sufficient compound of the family residence until deemed sufficiently competent in the arts of an Akasagi, usually around the age of sixteen to eighteen, though some never reached the required standards and thus were never allowed to leave. Once released, they would be considered 'active' members of the family.

'Active' members were only 'active' for a certain period of time, typically from their release till the age of twenty-eight, give or take a few years. After this, they would have to go legit, declaring themselves to be relatives of the family as a 'long-lost child' or 'third cousin twice removed' etc to satisfy the legal system. Over the period of approximately twelve years, the 'active' members of the family plied their trade, practicing and perfecting their arts, sometimes even bringing back new skills and methods to teach to the successive generations.

It was this notorious family, with its ancient bloodlines stemming from famous courtesans and renowned temptresses of yore, with its pure, untainted, powerful knowledge of the art of the Akasagi, which had taken in Kirihara Akaya. Specifically, it was the fifteenth generation head, Fuji Yumiko – after having received recommendation from her younger brother Fuji Syuusuke – who allowed the outsider brush the dangerous viscera of the Fuji family.

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Drumming his fingers as he waited – rather impatiently – for Fuji to pick up his call, Yukimura pondered on the wisdom in telling the notorious Akasagi of his present situation. Fuji Syuusuke was, to say the least, a dubious character.

The relationship between the two of them had always been rather odd. There was none of the malice and slyness that Yukimura would have treated a rival or potential threat with, yet there was also none of the closeness or trust that friends would have. Instead, they both hid behind masks of politeness and courtesy, smiling and suspecting, second-guessing, doubting.

On the surface, they were good friends and long-time acquaintances. The latter was true, but the former anything but. When push came to shove, there was no way Yukimura would trust Fuji with his life. Yet, that was exactly what he seemed to be doing right now in contacting the other man.

Yukimura had learned much about the shadowy world of deceit and distrust in which swindlers, yakuza and many others of similar trades fought for survival against the cutthroat competition. Among others, he had learned that male Akasagi were considered the lowest of the low in the swindling community.

Akasagi in general were regarded as dishonorable. _Male_ Akasagi, however, were dishonorable to the point of disgracefulness – despite the fact that the few who succeeded in their trade were superior by far to their female counterparts in their arts, simply in having to overcome that barrier of gender difference.

All these things served to prove that Fuji Syuusuke was a force to be reckoned with. Barely twenty, he had been released as an active member of his family at the tender age of fifteen, something that had not happened for three generations – and was already arguably one of the most successful male Akasagi that ever plied his trade in this and the surrounding cities.

Incidentally, he was also the one who had broken Kirihara Akaya. Toyed with him and even teaching him the basic skills of an Akasagi before tossing him out like so much garbage. And that was one key reason why Yukimura and Fuji always teetered on the wavering, indistinct line that marked the boundaries between friendship and hostility.

Suddenly, the incessant ringing from Yukimura's cell phone stopped, and Fuji's voice came through. "Yukimura-san, I apologize for making you wait, but I was… unable to answer the call for certain reasons."

"I see. Do you mind a holographic connection?" inquired Yukimura. He knew well that unlike Marui, Fuji never answered calls promptly unless it was from an important client, and sometimes not even then – it was just one of Fuji Syuusuke's numerous inexplicable quirks.

"Hmm… well, I don't mind, but modesty is a concern. If you would hold on for a moment?" There was the unmistakable sound of the phone being set down on another surface, followed by clothes rustling and low, unintelligible voices. Then – at long last – a hologram flickered into view.

Yukimura was greeted by the rather disturbing sight of a mildly disheveled Fuji Syuusuke in a simple yukata loosely tied at his waist with its sleeves threatening to slip off his shoulders any second. From what he could see in the hologram, Fuji was in a large, traditional Japanese-style room, seated on the edge of his futon. The sheets were in a state of disarray, and someone familiar was attempting to neaten them – someone with dyed black-and-white hair and vibrant aquamarine eyes. "Ah. Greetings, Saeki-san."

Fuji chuckled. "You remembered."

"Naturally," replied the blunette, bowing from the waist to the other man just to make sure he could not be faulted for disrespect. Dealing with Fuji was always precarious, and furthermore, Saeki had been Fuji's closest friend since childhood – or so Renji had said. The blue-eyed man was apparently a family servant of the Fuji's, and his principle duty was to accompany the two boys, Syuusuke and Yuuta.

Sitting up straight again, Yukimura registered the rather suggestive lack of a shirt on Saeki – and momentarily allowed himself to enjoy the sight of the well-defined muscles this revealed. That, beyond all else, reminded Yukimura of Fuji's status as a successful Akasagi – and also that Akasagi were really little more than particularly highly paid, highly experienced and proportionally highly skilled prostitutes. It was one thing to know it; it was quite another to actually see the evidence of it.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind (it helped that Saeki had excused himself and left the room), Yukimura refocused on his motive in calling the deceptive brunette. "Fuji-san, do you have connections in the police?"

"'Connections', you say? Saa… I have connections e-ve-ry-where, Yukimura-san… but why do you ask? I do not believe I am able to help you with Sanada-san," said Fuji, keeping his trademark smile and light tone throughout.

Yukimura was not too shocked by the revelation that Fuji already knew of his situation with Sanada. The brunette had always been particularly well-informed of the goings-on around and about him and his clientele. "Indeed, you may be right."

"Well then. Yukimura-san, I hope you will not mind if I ask this question of you – what, exactly, do you plan to do now, especially concerning Sanada-san?" Tugging his sleeves to a more decent height, Fuji opened his brilliant blue eyes to look straight at Yukimura.

"I…" For a second, the blunette was at a loss for words. What _did_ he want to do? What was his aim, now that he had finally piqued Sanada's attention? He fumbled for something to say. "I shall have to keep a low profile, so my network will be suppressed for the moment. As for Sanada…"

"Do you wish to take him back?" probed the Akasagi.

Yukimura's brows furrowed. If it came to that… "No. I want nothing of him except his ultimate destruction. I want his name desecrated and trampled into the dust. I want…" Bitter bile rose in his throat, choking him as he remembered Sanada's betrayal. "I want to make him hurt with my hurt. I want to make him feel the pain he made _me_ feel. I want him to suffer as I suffered. And then… I want to crawl to me on hands and knees like the dog that he is, and beg me for my forgiveness."

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"_My name is Sanada Genichirou. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu." Sanada bowed rather stiffly to his new class, staring stonily at the curious faces of the other nine-year-olds._

_There was a moment of silence before Morimoto-sensei coughed. "Well, I suppose that'll do. Go find a seat, Sanada-kun." When he obeyed, she smiled (not without a little relief) and turned to the whiteboard. "Now, today we'll be starting on chapter six…"_

_As she talked, the capped boy headed towards the only available seat in the class. The students he passed blinked at his rigid features and whispered to their friends around them; Sanada ignored them, sitting down and placing his bag next to him, then taking out his pencil case and the required textbook for the lesson._

"_Ne, Sanada-kun?" The voice startled him, and his head jerked up from its previous position where it was diligently lowered as he searched for the page Morimoto-sensei was currently referring to. The speaker was the person sitting at the desk in front of him._

_Sanada frowned slightly. Not a boy – too pretty. Not a girl – wrong uniform. So… an unnaturally pretty boy. How odd. "I don't believe I know your name," he said, expressionless._

"_Why, of course not. I haven't told you my name," pointed out the other boy. "I'm Yukimura, Yukimura Seiichi." He smiled brightly. "I hope we'll become good friends!"_

_Sanada was transfixed. That smile was brilliant and sincere and innocent and sweet and free and soft and… and… and everything that a real smile should be. He felt as though he'd never seen anyone smile before – and unconsciously resolved to see as much of this smile as he could._

_~x~o~x~_

_The lights in the bus were dimmed; just about all the occupants were sleeping. It was almost midnight, and after sitting through a two-hour-long Japanese Literature seminar followed by just over another hour of school presentations on various aspects on the same subject, eyelids weighed heavy for the group of middle school students._

_Sanada stared out of the window, watching the streetlamps flit past with sense of detachment born of drowsiness. Beside him, Yukimura shifted, sighing softly before settling again. Even in sleep, there was a hint of a smile tucked into the corners of his lips._

_The bus took a sharp bend, and even though the driver went slowly to avoid jarring his sleepy load of passengers, he could not nullify their inertia. And thus, Yukimura flopped over limply as a rag doll in his seat, coming to rest with his head on Sanada's shoulder and his arms strewn over the other boy's lap. _

_Despite the mild discomfort of the extra weight – though the warmth that came with it was welcome, especially when it was snowing outside – Sanada made no move to remove the aforementioned appendages from his person. One reason was that he was simply too sleepy to move… while another was that Yukimura looked angelically beautiful in his sleep, even more so than when he was awake. And Sanada, whether sleepy or not, was never averse to an opportunity to admire his Yukimura, nor did he dislike their current arrangement._

_If he happened to rest his head on Yukimura's when he fell asleep not long after, well, that wasn't too bad either._

_~x~o~x~_

_He couldn't take this anymore. Letting out a low, almost feral growl, Sanada grabbed Yukimura by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall of lockers, ignoring the hiss of pain the blunette emitted as a padlock dug into his back._

_This shouldn't be happening. He had simply gone to do some late-night kendo drills in the training halls by himself in an effort to clear his head of the conflicting feelings he had regarding his roommate and best friend. He had certainly not planned on being interrupted by the very person who had caused those selfsame uncomfortable emotions when his blood was up._

_Sanada knew what he had decided in doing this. He knew it was wrong to crave the gentle touch of his best friend's hands. He knew it was wrong to secretly admire the way light reflected in his best friend's eyes. He knew it was wrong to dream of him and his best friend in situations and positions that would make any normal person blush. He knew it was wrong to have to force himself to avert his gaze whenever he chanced upon his best friend changing because he wanted nothing more than to feast his eyes on the bare skin._

_Oh yes, he knew very well… and in succumbing to this overwhelming desire, he knew that he would pay dearly for the pleasure he wanted, the satisfaction he needed. He knew that it was going to be a dangerous path to follow. But for Yukimura, it was worth it._

_The shaft of moonlight, bright against the otherwise dark expanse, made Yukimura's pale skin glow – almost as though it was he who was radiating light, not reflecting it. His half-lidded eyes met Sanada's, the normally soft blue darkened with barely-concealed lust; the pale lips parted slightly. Sanada growled again, his insides twisting with an ache that was not unpleasant._

_How Yukimura could still smile was beyond him. But it didn't matter, not when Sanada finally claimed that smile for himself._

_~x~o~x~_

_Deep orange rays from the setting sun bathed the entire scene in burnished gold shades, gilding the wavelets and casting sharp shadows behind the grasses. Birds took flight, calls blending into the rustle of trees. Yukimura stood at the highest point close by, the crest of the grassy hill, with his hair fluttering in the wind as he faced the half-circle of molten gold that still remained above the horizon._

_Below, at the edge of the lake, Sanada allowed himself to relax and simply enjoy the beauty of the scene. It was a warm evening for autumn, even though most of the leaves had already turned color. The area was a sea of flaming glory, one of the last places where Mother Nature still ruled supreme, a place where Man had yet to extend his devastating reach euphemized as 'civilization'. He could appreciate such things, and it seemed Yukimura did, too._

_At last, just before the final sliver of brilliant orange sank beyond sight, Yukimura turned to look at his lover. "Sanada!" he called, that familiar smile shining from his features. "We'll always be together, ne?"_

_Sanada grunted his assent, feeling embarrassed to reply aloud even though they were alone. Even though he was quite sure Yukimura didn't hear anything, the other boy just laughed and came down the slope, affectionately wrapping his arms around Sanada just as the sun went down._

_There was just the two of them, closer than society would deem proper, twined in and around each other with only the sigh of the wind in the trees and the faint cry of the birds wheeling overhead._

That was how it had been. That was how it was supposed to be. That was how it would have been, if Sanada hadn't bowed to his parents' will. And so, he now had to bear the many varied consequences that stemmed from that one, cowardly action.

"Sanada, I suggest you wake up." The toneless, emotionless voice of Inui Sadaharu dragged the unwilling man back from the odd middle ground between oblivion and consciousness where Sanada had been drifting. "You have been asleep for twenty-three point four six minutes," he added helpfully.

Suppressing a yawn, Sanada pushed himself off his desk, noting that he'd managed to get pressure marks on his arms where they had been pressed to the edge of the table under his head. They had been, for lack of a better term, on stakeout for the past three days – no, more like two and three-quarters. Inui's precision in any and all matters was getting to him, being as they had been sharing the same several feet of space for the most of the aforementioned amount of time.

The fact that Sanada had been unable to sleep for more than one hour at a time since this whole business started meant that he slept when and if he could. Despite having told his field officers to report every three hours, they also called at the first sign of anything or anybody suspicious – which effectively made a huge and messy joke of the formerly well-organized schedule. And it seemed that Inui had not got around to fixing it yet, apparently because 'it was of secondary importance and not the priority' – which Sanada couldn't disprove, since he _had_ ordered the data master to focus on finding Yukimura.

What were really making life difficult for him right now were the extremely inconvenient locations chosen by the people he had to watch. Inui had announced that the confidential files relating to the Kurosagi case had been hacked, and also that he was 90 percent sure that the hacker had been Renji. Since then, Sanada had tripled the number of men at each station where a known acquaintance of Yukimura were based and simultaneously attempted to spur Inui to increase the speed and success of his search for Yukimura's current location.

Unfortunately, he currently only had people watching Marui Bunta and Jackal Kuwahara's shared residence, as well as the Yagyuu and Yanagi family residences in this city and the others in the area. He had also instructed some to keep a discreet eye on Echizen Ryoma. As of the moment, he had no leads as to Niou Masaharu, whom he felt had a key role. Yagyuu Hiroshi and Yanagi Renji were, as expected, nowhere to be found, though some claimed that they were overseas. How likely _that_ was remained to be seen.

Moreover, all the places he had assigned to his men were crowded public squares or bustling streets. Not exactly the best to keep a close watch on suspects. Sanada was unable to suppress a niggling feeling of insecurity.

The phone rang, and Sanada forced himself to stand and make his way over to pick it up. "Sanada speaking. Report," he mumbled.

"Sanada-san, is it? That's nice. Pleased to meet you, I'm sure." The voice was lilting and smooth, with a touch of amusement that was almost derision. Definitely not a voice Sanada recognized as one of his sergeants. "I've borrowed Tezuka-san's phone," the person added, as if he knew what Sanada was thinking.

"Kindly state your name and business at once," commanded the Police Deputy Commissioner.

He was answered by a laugh. "I'm sorry, but I haven't the time to play with you. Tezuka-san did something quite inappropriate, so I'm going to take care of him for a while." As Sanada fumbled for an appropriate response to this strange statement, the person continued, "I suggest that you find a replacement. He will not be released for a while, not until I've had my fun with him. And don't worry. His men are fine and manning their posts."

"Abducting a police officer is punishable by law," said Sanada, for lack of anything else to say.

"If it wasn't, I'd be surprised," the unknown speaker commented. "Well, it was nice speaking with you, Sanada-san. Perhaps we will meet someday, though I believe that would be quite unlikely. Good-bye..."

"Wait, what –" The hollow beep was all that he could hear. Sanada stared at the phone. "Kami-sama, that infernal –"

"Swearing is out of your character," remarked Inui. "I suggest you not ruin your image. What is the situation?"

"The situation is as bad as our calls schedule," Sanada replied grimly, punching numbers into the keypad. "One of the sergeants – Tezuka – has been abducted by a suspicious character that may or may not have a connection to Yukimura. Where –"

"Sergeant Tezuka's squad was stationed at Marui Bunta's residence," supplied Inui at once. "I will collect the relevant files immediately."

Nodding, Sanada poured himself a cup of black coffee and listened to the dial tone. Things were starting to move.

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**A/N: Aaaaand I'm back! –whoops- Exams are **_**over**_**!!! And to celebrate, this chappie's 13 pages long, much longer than the pathetic 8 pages I started off with. I didn't really intend it to be that short, really. But this here's to make up for it, so yeah ;)**

**How's the fic progressing so far? I hope it isn't too confusing, what with the sudden scene changes… but events are kinda happening simultaneously, so I thought it best. I personally enjoyed Sanada's flashback… -evil laughter- Maybe I should consider upping the rating… O.o**

**Then again, maybe not. I'll get even less reviews. Actually, the first chappie's review count was rather… disappointing. My multichaps usually get about 8 reviews for the first chapter and loads of favorites and alerts (this fic only got 5 reviews and definitely less faves and alerts)… then again, they **_**have**_** been up for a much longer time, and they're not yaoi. Maybe the fandom really **_**is**_** dying :-O sure hope it isn't… in any case, **_**please please please **_**help me advertise! (yes, blatant but I really need it) Recommend to your friends etc. to read this, okay? You know I love you =) More reviews is definitely inspiring and I'll be able to put up more, longer chapters faster. Not that I'll impose a quota.**

**So…**

**Please review and make my day!**


	3. III Gomen Ne Juliet

_**III – Gomen Ne Juliet (Sorry, Juliet)**_

Tezuka woke up with a pounding headache and a person next to him. The brunette whom Tezuka recognized had been his downfall smiled. "Ah, you're awake."

"Who are you? Abducting a police officer is punishable by law." Tezuka was somewhat pleased to find that his voice still retained its authority. Not that it fazed his abductor.

The smaller – boy? Man? – continued smiling. "Saa, that exactly what Sanada-san said. Would you care for some tea?"

Momentarily thrown off-balance by the unexpected invitation, Tezuka realized that though his hands were cuffed together and his leg chained to the floor, he generally still retained the freedom to move. He also noticed the presence of a tea set on the wooden table.

This was strange. The room was not at all what one would expect when one had just been kidnapped. It was a traditional Japanese-style room with simple but elegant furnishings comprising of a scroll calligraphy painting, the aforementioned polished wooden table, solid-colored cushions and a paper lamp. He was currently lying on a futon, but he estimated that the room was approximately the size of eight to ten tatamis, which was relatively big. The only flaw was the wooden walls and the lack of windows – he'd been hoping for traditional rice-paper screens, perhaps opening onto a landscaped garden, since that would greatly increase his chances for escape.

"If you're looking to escape, I'd advice against it, though you'd probably not accept advice from me," commented the brunette. "As it is, you should really be grateful that you're getting such nice treatment. You're the first outsider I've brought here since Kirihara-kun a few years back."

Tezuka did not take the bait. "I would like to know why you abducted me. But before that, what is your name?"

The petite boy lifted his shoulders in a shrug, causing the sleeves of his short summer kimono to slip and bare his pale skin. "'What is a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.'"

"Shakespeare," declared Tezuka immediately, almost reflexively providing the answer to the unspoken question. "Romeo and Juliet."

"Not bad, Tezuka-san; you know your literature. Returning to the matter at hand… I have many names, Tezuka-san but for now, you may call me Syuusuke." Standing with casual, even careless grace, he walked towards the door, and Tezuka found himself unconsciously following the sway of his hips with his eyes. Upon realization, he quickly tore his gaze away.

As if he knew what Tezuka had been doing, Syuusuke paused. "Tezuka-san. If you cooperate with me – with us – your stay here will be relatively pleasant. But if you do not… I can promise that you will dearly regret the day you set eyes on me." And then he was gone, silent and swift as a candle's flame extinguished by a breath of wind.

Tezuka collapsed back into the futon. He was already regretting doing just that…

(Flashback)

His target was moving fast, navigating the crowded city square with unnatural ease. Even though Tezuka wasn't too bad at getting through crowds, he was hard put to keep up with the slim, kimono-clad figure – who had exited Marui Bunta's pastry enterprise not too long ago.

What had raised his suspicions on this particular patron was the fact that he had seen no one of such a description pass through the only doors to the aforementioned establishment. It was physically impossible to come out of a place one had never entered before, and undeniably restless after days of non-action, Tezuka followed the patron to satisfy his curiosity.

It really didn't have anything to do with the fact that the person – he still wasn't entirely sure whether his target was male or female – was extremely attractive. Though it did help.

Tezuka tailed the brunette down a leisurely – for him, irritatingly – roundabout route through three sectors of the city before finally coming to a halt in front of the doors of a huge, walled compound in the area where nobles and the richest merchants had their city houses. The guards there let him in immediately, and Tezuka glimpsed a traditional Zen garden with miniature trees and water features before the gates closed. It was only then that he realized that the place his target had entered was the mysterious Fuji residence.

Naturally, he ventured closer to affirm his deduction – but barely had he moved three feet out of hiding, another person appeared beside him. This man had oddly-colored hair, half white and half black, and deep blue eyes that regarded him with something like amusement. He smiled at Tezuka, in a way that could almost be called friendly.

That was the last Tezuka remembered before he was knocked unconscious.

(End Flashback)

Was Syuusuke related in any way to the Kurosagi case? He had not mentioned anything of the sort. But whether or not he was a part of it, he obviously had something to hide. And Tezuka was determined to find out more.

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Yukimura frowned at the caller ID, but still answered the call. "Fuji-san, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" he asked, smooth voice not giving away any emotion apart from mild interest.

"Saa… I thought you might like to know that I've presently got a visitor," was the equally silky reply. "Sergeant Tezuka Kunimitsu-san, according to his police badge."

"And why do you have such a guest?" inquired Yukimura, still keeping a light tone although his ears had metaphorically pricked up at the mention of 'police'. "Did something untoward occur?"

"He saw what he should not have seen," said Fuji flatly, coldly. Even though it was simply a phone call without the holographic projection, Yukimura could tell from his tone that the brunette's eyes were open and most likely dangerous. "From what Saeki told me, he'd been tailing me since I left Marui's place. And when searched, I found Sanada Genichirou's name listed as his direct superior, and that the case they were working on was the Kurosagi case. Need I go on?"

Sanada had ordered men to watch Marui's shop for a couple of days already. When a sergeant assigned to that area vanished for no apparent reason, he was bound to be suspicious… "Has he been trying to contact this Sergeant Tezuka-san of yours?"

"Incidentally no, since I saved him the trouble by contacting _him_ myself," answered the Akasagi cheerfully. "Sanada-san was not especially pleased to learn that one of his underlings has been incapacitated for an undefined length of time. I believe he will be making a move soon, if for no other reason than to close the case as quickly as possible."

Yukimura's nails bit deep into his palms as he unconsciously balled his hands into fists at the hint of condescension in that last statement. He would never allow Sanada to treat him like some insignificant bug that needed to be brushed off because it was irritating. _He_ was supposed to be the one in control, the one making Sanada dance to _his_ tune, the one who was orchestrating this whole activity!

It was a moment before he could answer, since he had to make sure his voice was back under control again. He could not afford to offend Fuji Syuusuke, even if he was in effect an overpriced prostitute of sorts. The blue-eyed beauty was not called a tensai for nothing, and the skills of an Akasagi could be extremely potent in the hands of those who knew how to exploit them. Yukimura wouldn't be surprised if the pretty boy took it into his head to do a double-cross just for the fun of it, and then worm his way into the beds of high-ranking nobles to make sure that nobody could implicate him.

Naturally, that was not an ideal situation, but all Yukimura could do to prevent it was to try to stay on the brunette's good side and hope that he'd be sufficiently entertained not to poke his nose into their business. "The reason for his making a move does not carry much weight. What matters is that he has made the first move, and that immediately incriminates him," he stated firmly.

"Indeed. Well, all I can say is that I'm pleased to see things starting to happen," remarked Fuji. "I look forward to see what kind of entertainment you will provide – how big the scope, how widespread the chaos, how long you'll be able to keep this quarrel undetected from those around you. Oh, and how Akaya might fit into your plans." He chuckled provocatively, and Yukimura bit his lip until it turned white. "Ah yes, I'm really looking forward to this… See you, then, Yukimura-san…"

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Saeki watched, intrigued, as his best friend ended his call to Yukimura with a sadistic, satisfied tint to his usual smile. Having been Fuji Syuusuke's personal bodyguard for almost as long as he could remember, he knew his master's moods as well as the ninjutsu arts in which he'd trained for approximately the same length of time. Yes, Saeki Kojirou was a ninja, a member of one of the last surviving ninja clans.

The Fuji family had employed the ninja clan of Rokkaku centuries ago as personal guards. However, though they did serve this purpose, there was also an ulterior motive – to cover up an unexpected pregnancy in a time when abortion was technologically impossible, a merger of sorts was needed to protect reputations all around.

Even though money was indeed part of the arrangement – the entire Rokkaku clan would have a roof over their heads, food on their tables and clothes on their backs, all provided by the overflowing coffers of the Fuji family – they were still as bound to their employers as samurai were bound to their lords. That was the situation when the other party had political clout, innate deviousness, unprecedented skill at negotiation, and the unscrupulousness to blackmail as well as the obvious monetary superiority.

And so they served their masters. Naturally, they knew of the dubious nature of their employers' true family business. But ninjas had a different set of laws governing the ethical side of things, and they included nothing regarding what kind of master a clan served. Ninjas had been used for years by scheming daimyos and warring lords. They were the silent killers who defied all laws of physics, the flash of steel death and the scent of green poison, the shadows within shadows – trained from young to fight, to hide, to deceive, and to slay whenever the need arose.

They had been honed all their lives to carry out whatever task demanded of them no matter the reason or the consequence. Cold-blooded assassins, they could not care less that their new employers were cold-blooded swindlers.

Both families, under mutual cooperation, kept domestic affairs separate from business for the most part. Of course, there were certain exceptions – and Saeki Kojirou was one of them.

He had been assigned to accompany the two youngest Fujis since as long as he could remember. An orphan of sorts, he had easily integrated into his masters' family, though still undergoing the same training as the rest of the clan in his age group. In a sense, he was to be their personal bodyguard, much like the older girl, Ikage Miki, who had been assigned to Fuji Yumiko.

There were, as with everything, advantages as well as disadvantages to his position. He was expected to have the time, imagination and stamina to both train and entertain the two boys; later, he was expected to be able to command the other clan members with no preparation of any sort. When Syuusuke and Yuuta wanted someone to accompany them in anything, be it strenuous physical and mental training or highly disturbing (for him) Akasagi skills, he was the one they went to. Saeki was proud to say that living thus for almost fifteen years had paid off – the siblings could almost be said to be closer to him than to each other, and that was saying something.

To put things simply, he and the Fuji siblings had an interesting history that included plenty of activities usually considered unsuitable for their age group. One of the many repercussions was the negligence of the original servant-master relationship. Right now, Saeki was quite interested to know why exactly the blue-eyed Fuji had sent this provocative call to Yukimura – and in front of the newly arrived Tezuka, at that.

The aforementioned stoic male was offering no apparent reaction to the situation, which obviously puzzled Syuusuke. "Saa… Tezuka-san, are you acquainted with Yukimura-san?"

"I know nobody of such a name who might have any connection to the current situation as I understand it," answered the bespectacled brunette stonily.

"Hm… talkative, aren't we?" Syuusuke hummed tonelessly, still smiling. To a stranger like Tezuka, that smile would have looked cheery and distant… to Saeki, it was far too innocent to actually _be_ innocent, as he had found from long experience. After a moment of silence, the slender male tilted his head towards Tezuka. "Have you met Sanada-san's wife before, Tezuka-san?"

"Only once, at a professional meeting," was his reply, as emotionless as before.

Pleased at the positive response (Saeki could almost feel the waves of satisfaction radiating from his master), Syuusuke continued his interrogation. "What was your opinion of her?"

"I do not have the right to judge a superior's wife." Obviously Tezuka was not going to be encouraging.

Saeki heaved a mental sigh of resignation and settled in to wait out the discussion. His friend had to have a purpose in ordering that Tezuka be brought into the family residence instead of left in a rubbish dump on the opposite side of the city with a terrible headache. If he meant to achieve that purpose through interrogation, then Saeki would have to bear with this continuous stonewalling until one or the other broke. The ninja was willing to bet that Fuji would win, though it seemed that even his stubborn friend was going to have a tough battle for it.

As the interrogation (neither conversation nor dialogue described it quite as fittingly) continued, the lithe fighter allowed his mind to wander while still keeping half an ear on what was said. He also spared some attention to the security of his best friend – after all, it would be the ultimate embarrassment to fail in his duty as a bodyguard and ninja sworn to protect the family while daydreaming.

Sifting through his thoughts, he turned a few more interesting ones over – such as the fact that Tezuka, though supposedly well-trained (he _was_ a sergeant), had so easily been caught off guard and almost too easily neutralized – but eventually settled again on the issue that had been troubling him more than he cared to admit for the past few days. It was concerning the whereabouts of Fuji Yuuta, Saeki's second charge, friend, and responsibility.

Yuuta had not returned to the compound for almost five days already, and the ninja was justifiably worried. Yuuta had been sent to a nearby teahouse affiliated to the Fuji family for what Saeki understood to be the Akasagi version of a practical examination – the youngest Fuji of this generation was still unable to become an 'active' member and as such was disallowed from contact with the outside world as far as possible. But Yuuta had retaken this same examination at this same teahouse a number of times already, and Saeki couldn't help but suspect that someone had kidnapped him.

It _was_ feasible. Of course, whoever had done it must've had the patience of a saint and persistence down to an art… or such was Saeki's private opinion. But he vaguely remembered Yuuta mentioning someone called Misaki,,, or Mizuri… or something to that effect, anyway… someone who had a habit of twisting his hair around his index finger…

Somehow it sounded familiar… yet, no matter how hard he racked his brains, Saeki just couldn't dredge up the name to match the faded image in his mind. He'd consulted Syuusuke, but the Akasagi had had an oddly hectic schedule these past few days and thus had been unable to discuss the matter as he would have preferred to. Perhaps he'd remind the brunette later, now that he seemed to have time hanging on his hands.

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"Mou, _Bunta_, pay attention to me!" pouted one of the women. "You're really distracted today!"

"Can't help it; Jirou-kun is here," her friend intervened, nudging the first woman and giggling. "He's never attentive to us girls when Jirou-kun's around…"

Marui ignored the comment and its accompanying insinuation of his sexual preferences. Akutagawa Jirou was one of his best correspondents from the highest levels of society; he'd practically been _adopted_ by the king, albeit the said King Atobe had still been the Prince at that time. Not only that, but the boy apparently idolized him, and had been more than willing to relay the proceedings of Atobe's Privy Council and the social tidbits to Marui, who in turn sold or bartered the information to those who wanted it.

Jirou was valuable, and as long as he didn't mind Marui's preference to be an older brother instead of a boyfriend to him, Marui let him be as publicly affectionate as he liked – within limits, of course. The customers could take it or leave it; like most humans, though, they generally wanted a bit of both… which resulted in these kinds of remarks. Still, these nosy girls were usually queens of well-developed gossip networks, which led them to be rather more bold than most.

"I'm sorry," the redhead apologized, easily slipping into puppy-eyed mode. "It's just… well, I'll tell you two a secret, okay?"

The wide, endearing eyes and half-guilty tone had their desired effect – both women cooed in delight and promptly forgot about his earlier rudeness towards them, leaning in eagerly to hear what he had to say. "Tell, tell!"

"Closer…" They obeyed at once; completely under his spell for all that they were both approximately five years older than him. Lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper, he explained, "There've been police around my place; been here for a few days already…"

They gasped dramatically, exchanging fearful glances; were they to be branded as criminals? These were part of the group of patrons of his shop who took an active role in the exchange and spread of information, particularly in the form of rumors; they knew that if they were found out, things could get messy. And having police surveillance for more than forty-eight hours was no joke.

"Shh!" Marui hurriedly shushed them before the patrons who were _not_ in the need-to-know loop came round to find out what was going on. "Don't worry; they're not looking for me or for people like us who handle the rumor- and gossip-mongering in the area. They're actually looking for a friend of mine. Ever heard of the Kurosagi?"

"…Kurosagi… it sounds very familiar," commented one. "I think someone mentioned something about that being a pretty big swindle operation that the police are working on?"

Marui nodded affirmatively. "Yeah. See, the boss of the swindle is a personal acquaintance of mine, and so is the boss of the police personnel running him down now. He guessed that the Kurosagi would come here… well, he's always been a bit naïve really."

The two women soaked up the information like the professionals that they were, committing it to memory and finding links to other pieces of information to see who might want it. They looked as if they wanted to ask more, but the timely arrival of Jirou meant that the redhead was able to escape.

"What's up?" he asked the smaller boy.

Jirou, awake and alert for the moment, gestured towards Marui's living quarters. "Phone call. It's been ringing for ages, and it's the phone you said was the dangerous contacts, so I thought I'd better call you since you don't seem to have heard it."

Marui frowned slightly at that and dashed upstairs to answer the said phone call. Jirou followed at a more leisurely pace, pausing to wave sleepily at the two women and get glomped by them before ascending.

The number was untraceable – which, it being this phone, either meant Yanagi or Niou. Flipping it open, the redhead let the call through. "Hello?"

"Yanagi speaking," came the familiar voice of his data-master friend.

Marui grinned and collapsed onto the nearest sofa. "Yanagi! Just the man I wanted to speak to. Can you do something to get Yukimura to hurry up and fight it out with Sanada? Having policemen around isn't exactly good for business, even if I were an honest patisserie."

"I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused," said Yanagi. "Yukimura has not been at his most… cooperative… at least, not recently. However, I'm sure the police will soon be gone – I have just received information that Sanada is making a move."

"Oh really? I wouldn't have thought it of him; he's more likely to wait for Yukimura to start the ball rolling," commented the redhead, popping his bubblegum as he contemplated. "So… fill me in."

"Sanada allegedly left the police headquarters approximately ten minutes ago. He's ordered two squads of uniformed police and one backup squad of their Special Forces to follow him. The latest update says that he is heading towards you," answered the data master promptly.

Marui peered out of the window and swore briefly upon sighting the increasing number of black-uniformed men and women swarming into the square. "Yanagi, couldn't you have mentioned it earlier?!"

"I informed you as soon as I knew the circumstances," defended the brunette. "Anyway, you must hurry. You have five minutes max to evacuate the premises. I'll report this incident to Jackal for you."

"Got it. We'll talk when we're clear and settled." His terse tone declared the conversation over. Snapping his cell phone shut, the redhead shouted, "Jirou!"

The normally sleepy boy was at his door, wide awake and curious as to the redhead's evident agitation. "What's happening?"

"The police are coming. Grab what you need, then go to the shop. Tell anyone you see that it's emergency Code Red," ordered Marui, already gathering documents and stuffing clothes into a bag. "And if I tell you to do something, _do_ it, don't ask questions, okay? Good. Now move your ass! We've got less than five minutes to clear out of here!"

Jirou obeyed immediately, though he was obviously dying to ask dozens of the stuff. The older boy ignored it for now; what was important was to make sure the place was as innocent as possible by the time Sanada arrived. He raced down the stairs, snagging a few essentials (bubblegum was something he _really_ couldn't live without) on the way as he burst into the shop, yelling, "Code Red! Get to the cellar unless you want the cops down your necks!"

Those used to these situations immediately obeyed, swiftly gathering their belongings and heading for the cellar while simultaneously contacting anyone relevant. Those who weren't accustomed demanded to know what was going on and, on Marui's orders, were hustled to the cellar against their wills by the rest of the need-to-know loop.

Somewhere in the middle of the hullabaloo, Jirou reappeared, flushed with excitement and exertion. "Marui-kun, what next?"

"Remember where Fuji-kun came out of this morning?" Receiving an affirmative nod, Marui quickly started giving orders. "Open that door and let our customers out through that tunnel. Quite a few of them know how to use it and where it goes to; let that Tachibana girl lead or something. Make sure that _all_ of them go. And if I'm not there by the time everyone's gone in, _do not wait for me_; follow them. You heard me?"

Jirou's eyes were wide. "But I can't –"

"_Just go_!" The redhead all but shoved the smaller boy towards the cellars. "I'll be _fine_, okay?!"

The noble looked like he wanted to protest again, but finally decided against it and followed the rest of the crowd. Before he vanished down the stairs to the cellars, though, he turned back and called, "I'll see you later then, Marui-kun!"

Swallowing the strange lump in his throat, Marui nodded firmly. "See you later, Jirou."

Cheerful and exuberant even up to this point; Jirou grinned and waved before descending after the others. Marui bit his lower lip for a second, at a momentary loss for what to do next, before hurriedly arranging the furniture in the shop area such that it looked as though there had not been any customers that day. It was more of a distraction than anything else; he couldn't afford to think about whether or not he would walk out of this place free at the end of the day.

Barely had he finished when the door slammed open, revealing an officer armed to the teeth and the First Deputy Commissioner Sanada Genichirou in full battle regalia. Marui, lounging behind the countertop, audaciously blew an extra large bubble before standing to greet him. "Well, nice to see that I have customers… so good of you to bring friends, Sanada…"

Sanada's eyes were as hard and dark as flint. "Where are your customers? I assumed that your business was thriving."

"Ah, is that so? You must have lousy sources of information," commented the redhead. "I certainly wish that what you said was true, but as you can see…" he made a sweeping gesture, indicating the empty room, "I have rather less business than I would prefer."

His poker face never twitched. "Marui Bunta, it would seem that your presence is urgently required in the Interrogation Chamber of the City Prison."

Marui ignored the sinking feeling in him; after all, it wasn't at all unexpected. There had been only a tiny chance that he'd manage to weasel out of arrest… but that didn't mean he was going to go down without a fight. "I'd like to know what the charges are."

"Nobody said you would be charged. Your own words are proof of guilt," retorted Sanada.

"You can't take me in without one!" protested the redhead. "I've got a family! A business! A –"

Sanada ignored him, glancing instead at his men. "Restrain him and bring him in for immediate interrogation."

As they obeyed, roughly cuffing his wrists and ankles, Marui didn't even attempt to fight them off. To know when to back off was as important as to know how to fight. He did regret that he couldn't keep his sort-of promise to Jirou.

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Echizen Ryoma stretched like a cat, lazily opening his eyes to stare at the man who'd woken him from his nap. Not that he was particularly pissed off, since he'd already been awake and had simply been pondering on the merits of getting out of bed and let his companion know he was awake or staying there and pretending to sleep. "Mmmng… isn't it too early, Monkey King?" he complained, more for the sake of complaining than anything else.

Atobe ignored him, knowing that he didn't require an answer. "Have you seen Mizuki lately?" he asked bluntly.

"Mizuki…?" Ryoma yawned luxuriously, purposely delaying his answer till the last possible moment just to be annoying. "I think I heard somebody mention he's found an interesting boy-toy… or something like that… why?"

"He's been taking unusually long absences," explained the older male, a tiny crease appearing between his perfect silver-grey eyebrows marking a ruler-straight line down his forehead. It was Atobe's version of a frown, and as far as Ryoma knew, it was natural, not forced. And Ryoma knew quite a lot about the natural side of Atobe.

The dark-haired teen shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "I think he's just jealous. You _did_ dump him for me."

"Good Kami-sama; it's been a year already. If he put up with it for this long, he wouldn't just vanish like this…" Atobe let out an exasperated breath and leaned back onto the smaller boy's stomach to stare at the four-poster's canopy. "In any case, he was completely in awe of Ore-sama's glory. It's not like him at all."

"Don't flatter yourself; it's unbecoming," Ryoma informed him. "What _I_ want to know is – why the heck did you have such an annoying prick as your bed warmer before I came into the picture?! You're certainly not starved for choice."

"Most would say that you're equally as annoying as Mizuki," commented the man dryly.

Ryoma hit him on the arm. "Say that again and you can sleep alone for a week."

"Ore-sama does not see fit to acknowledge that," was the languid, drawling reply. "To answer your question, Ore-sama chose him _because_ he was annoying. Though that hair-twirling habit _was_ unnecessary…"

The golden-eyed boy sniffed and made as if to leave the bed. "So you _are_ saying that I'm annoying. I'll tell Jirou you've finally decided to try him out –"

"You know perfect well that Ore-sama does not have such a relationship with Jirou," Atobe cut in, holding on to the boy. "Ore-sama _adopted_ him as a _brother_, not _hired_ him."

"If you had, he'd just be part of that public harem of yours and available to anyone in this draughty chimney you call a palace," retorted the teen. "Adopting him means he's off limits to everyone but you. Besides, you only did that the year before I came."

Atobe looked highly affronted. "That was most certainly not the motive behind Ore-sama's generosity towards that unfortunate child!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever…" muttered Ryoma, obviously not convinced. He had always had a hidden streak of possessiveness in him, though not many knew of it until they experienced his wrath.

The king took a deep breath in an effort to regain his composure. "We digress. Returning to the original question… Mizuki was one of the few in the aforementioned 'harem' with decent cognitive abilities and relied on more than looks to get his way. He was significantly more interesting than the rest; the majority of them were girls, and they generally think men don't look beyond a big chest and fluttery eyelashes – no matter how many times I told them straight to the face that they looked like they'd gotten a bad eye infection."

"Agreed there; they suck ass," declared the boy with conviction. Apparently deciding to forget to be pissed off at Atobe, he added, "If I remember correctly, Mizuki's new boyfriend's name is Yuuta. They said he's got this weird idea that he's a ninja – seriously."

"You never know; they used to be bodyguards of the richest and most corrupt," Atobe said slowly, trailing off. Suddenly he sat bolt upright, so abruptly that the huge bed shook. "Jirou… Where's Jirou?" he demanded.

Ryoma glared at him. "How do you think _I_'d know?!"

"Did you see him? Did he go anywhere? Was anyone with him?" Clearly agitated, Atobe leapt to his feet, heading first towards the door, then to the window, then back to the door, then to his desk, then back to the window again. He was obviously freaking out. "Oh shit… he didn't say a word to me…"

"What happened?" asked Ryoma, more than a little alarmed. Atobe Keigo rarely lost his composure so completely; it had to be something pretty major.

The older man stared at him incredulously. "Jirou's missing. He _always_ tells me when he wants to go out… I was rushing for that Council meeting on taxes and… Hell; both Mizuki and Jirou…"

For once, the snarky teen was at a loss. "Can't you, like, just order out a search team or something?" he ventured after a few moments of listening to his lover muttering unintelligibly under his breath.

Atobe shot him a look, then frowned, deep in thought. "That might work," he decided at last. "The police can jolly well drop whatever case they're doing. I'm going to order every single last one of them to turn out and comb the city until I find them."

"I hope you can come up with a better reason than missing them," commented Ryoma, but Atobe had already disappeared to carry out his plan.

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**A/N: How was it? I enjoyed writing about Jirou and Marui XD Ryoma and Atobe were a tad harder... I hope they're not too OOC :-X Mizuki has appeared too, and he's up to no good, as usual ^^**

**Is it going too slow? I felt that I needed to make the context clearer, especially where the characters are concerned, since this is an AU ficcy, so I spent quite a long time on that. Do let me know how I can improve.**

**Thanks very much for taking my exhortations to review to heart! :D I really appreciate the feedback. Do keep it up for the subsequent chapters! ^^ Love y'all!**

**Please Review!**


	4. IV Izanaizuki

_**IV – Izanaizuki (Liking the Temptation)**_

"Marui's place was raided by the police this afternoon," announced Yanagi without preamble. "My sources say that only one person was arrested; the rest were probably evacuated safely."

Yukimura frowned. "Was it Marui who was taken?"

"There is a 90 percent chance of that," confirmed the data master. "I have already sent people to check on the evacuees; they will be reporting soon. What do you plan to do?"

The blunette knotted his fingers, trying to conceal his anxiety as he turned a few possibilities over in his mind. "There are a few options to be considered," he began slowly. "First, though, I'd like to clarify some issues. With Marui imprisoned for an indefinite period of time, to what extent will we retain control of the gossip networks?"

"Limited," Yanagi answered promptly. "The assorted networks in this city and area were under an uneasy truce, with Marui as their medium for transfer of information. The different heads were controlled to a certain degree as he could decide to transfer or withhold information from any side. Removing him means that, unless he left orders for a successor, we will have little or no control over the full organization, though some control of the individual chains might still be feasible."

"Not a very good prognosis, then," observed his friend dryly. "But don't abandon it yet; he might just have instructions pertaining to his successor. Inform me if there is any news regarding that." Leaning back, Yukimura stared unfocusedly at the ceiling, deep in thought. "What of our monetary situation and social resources?"

As usual, the brunette had plenty to say. "Our funds should be adequate, though one should note that there has been a marked decrease of the number of new clients per day. They appear to be wary of any door-to-door salespeople in black, probably due to the information of the police investigation of Kurosagi being available to the general populace."

That was unexpected. Yukimura had not thought Sanada would disclose information regarding the Kurosagi case to people outside the need-to-know loop, and it might yet prove to be a costly oversight. "Will this affect us, do you think?"

Yanagi's face held no expression. "No. Once you have brought Sanada down, there will be no reason to continue this swindling organization – thus the negative consequences to the organization as a whole during the process of subjugation will not be of much importance as long as your ultimate goal is achieved."

The beautiful blunette allowed a small smile to touch his lips, conceding the point. His old friend was very good at this. "Indeed. Well, then… our capacity for societal manipulation?" he prompted.

"Niou easily rules the underworld, and shows some degree of enthusiasm and sympathy for our cause," responded his friend immediately. "Yagyuu is able to influence the members of the King's Council to a certain extent; he is likely to offer assistance to us if Niou asks it of him. Jackal has notable connections in a number of foreign embassies –"

"What about Akaya?" Yukimura cut in. When Yanagi glanced at him in surprise, he smiled crookedly. "I'm not so unobservant as to miss the similarity between Akaya and Ryoma – you needn't fill me in on the full details now, though I'd appreciate it if you could send me his data."

The data master banished surprise from his features, instead nodding impassively. "Kirihara Akaya may prove to be useful, though that remains to be seen. However, there is also your acquaintance, Fuji Syuusuke, to be taken into account. As an Akasagi, he would have extensive potential in facilitating our cause should he be well-disposed towards it."

"But he kidnapped a police sergeant a few days ago," the blunette reminded him. "What can you say about that?"

"My latest information states that he has recently abducted a police sergeant by the name of Tezuka Kunimitsu," answered Yanagi. "This took place after his visit to Marui this morning, motive allegedly to find the suspected captor of his younger brother."

"Who is this suspect?" inquired Yukimura, genuinely curious. To be able to snatch Yuuta away from Saeki and Fuji, who watched him like hawks, was no mean feat. Whoever it was had to be someone worth taking note of.

Yanagi took a moment longer than usual to reply. 'If memory serves, he was reported to have been asking for someone called Mizuki." Seeing Yukimura's interest, he continued, "Assuming that the culprit is indeed an individual by the name of Mizuki, I hypothesize that the culprit may be Mizuki Hajime, of the royal court's 'harem' and superior in rank to all but the female head Aoi Hanamura. The key reason, among a number of others, is his reportedly having taken indefinite unpaid leave since five days ago, which coincides with the closest estimate for the projected time and date of Fuji Yuuta's disappearance."

"Mizuki Hajime…" The blunette mused thoughtfully, pondering on how he could best use this information to his advantage. "We could propose that – Renji?"

The data master was frowning at the message he had apparently just received on his cell phone, not paying attention to his friend. He quickly dialed a number, turning on the screen of his laptop at the same time – obviously this was some pressing information. Yukimura swallowed his reprimand and waited for whatever it was to be confirmed, reminding himself that his friend rarely ignored him, and when he did, it was for a good reason.

This still held true – the first thing Yanagi did, once the person picked up the phone, was to demand proof that the king had ordered all police operations to stop and all police officers, whether on- or off-duty, to report to the police headquarters immediately. "Can you tell me _exactly_ what the situation is?" he asked again. Yukimura was vaguely impressed at the rare tone of exasperation and even rarer hint of anxiety in his friend's voice.

"Yes, I know you're not an officer, but surely –"

"Okay, I _do_ understand that Atobe-sama is allowed to order the police about at his whim and fancy, but does he not have to offer any reason at all?"

"Understood. Inform me of his motive as soon as possible." The brunette ended the call, turning to his friend. "Atobe-sama has –"

"Yes, yes, I got that far," interrupted Yukimura. "Does this mean that Marui can't be interrogated until whatever Atobe-sama wants is done?" At his friend's affirmative nod, he smiled, showing teeth. "Very good. We may have to hurry, but I have a plan…"

The predatory smile on the beautiful blunette's lips made Yanagi cringe inwardly, reminded again of the malevolent side that Yukimura's insanity brought out in his friend, along with its endless propensity for violence. He hoped he'd never be on the receiving end of that unquenchable thirst for blood, for flesh, for revenge.

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Jirou was awake.

It was quite a remarkable occurrence in that he was more awake than he'd been for years. The last time he'd been so conscious, so aware… it had been the day he'd first met Atobe Keigo, more than five years ago.

He shook of the memory of the dark silver angel who had shown him that humans were capable of kindness. His instincts were screaming at him to leave this place, _immediately_.

The people with whom he had fled were for the most part shady characters, and Jirou could probably throw them further than he trusted them. Being the king's adoptive younger brother, it wasn't as if he was unknown to the general public, and kidnapping was definitely a possibility now that Marui wasn't around to keep an eye out for him.

Tachibana An had led them all out of the dark, winding passage from Marui's cellars to a deserted storehouse near the boat quay, in the merchant's sector of town. Those who felt safe enough to be seen in public were trickling away, leaving alone or in twos or threes. Others stayed, waiting for nightfall and the greater cover it would afford them.

Jirou himself had stayed for over an hour to hear the news of Marui. Now that An's runners had come, confirming his fears of Marui's arrest, there was no need for him to stay any longer. He had to return home to the palace and try to help his friend from there.

Keeping a casual stance, Jirou strolled to the nearest of the three exits, hoping that he looked insignificant enough to leave without any problems. The closest group of men was conferring quietly amongst themselves, paying him no attention, while a few loners he did not recognize watched him with some curiosity – but nobody moved to block him.

He slipped out of the door and into the street, giving himself a pat on the back for a successful getaway even as he merged into the evening foot traffic. The merchant's district was bustling with servants, guards and laborers; it was not difficult to lose himself among them.

The environment was particularly distracting for him now that his senses were so heightened, with noise and color and vehicles swishing past, sending clothes flapping and papers flying. Jirou smiled; he'd had loved to simply sit down and observe how things were in this place, a relatively new environment to him… to just watch life go by.

He stood there, just absorbing everything and getting used to his new abilities. Slowly, he began to sort through the overlapping sounds…

"Jirou-saaaaaaaaan!"

He looked around at the call and blinked; police had apparently overrun the street within his moment of inattention, so many that they seemed to have popped out of the ground or dropped from the sky. The civilians were still hurrying along purposefully, albeit going out of their way to divert around the many new obstructions.

"Jirou-san, please accompany us immediately," said the first officer who reached him.

"Why? I haven't done anything wrong," protested the boy.

The officer looked rather pissed off, though it didn't seem to be directed at him. "Atobe-sama was worried about you. He believed you might have been in danger."

"His Majesty ordered the entire police force to drop whatever they were doing to search for you, Jirou-san," put in another officer who had just caught up to his companion. Jirou noted with mild interest that his fringe comprised of two small, feeler-like forelocks that never seemed to fall out of shape.

"I see… well, I suppose you'll have to accompany me home, then," he said by way of reply.

They exchanged glances. "Actually, we'd prefer to present you to our superior first…"

Jirou shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay, but I'd like to get home soon, so… shall we?"

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Saeki watched, uneasy, as his friend and master considered Yukimura's proposal. It would be overstepping his boundaries to make any comments in front of the blunette, since he was technically a servant, but he did not particularly like the way things were going.

"Saa, this might be fun," remarked Syuusuke. "He looks so like Akaya… that would certainly make things easier…"

"I'll take that as consent to my plan," said Yukimura, voice polite but knuckles turning white as his hands fisted in his lap. Holographic images were constantly increasing in quality, mused the ninja. "As such, I require the control of your family's armed forces – I'm sure I mentioned it earlier?"

"Yes, yes, of course; were you thinking I'd go back on my word? But never mind; those who trust too easily should never be trusted themselves…" The brunette waved it away as something beneath his attention.

Yukimura's voice was bland as he pointed out, "You did not agree, per se. I assumed your statement was one of assent. One feels uneasy knowing that there may be a loophole in a deal of such high import."

The Akasagi sighed. "Very well. It seems that you stay on your toes; that's good. If you want, why don't you fax over documents for me to sign as proof of my concurrence? That way I can check the criteria in black and white. Remember, I'm not doing this for free. If you don't produce Mizuki and Yuuta... I will ensure that you'll regret it for the remainder of your life, which will be a painful and short period of time."

"Yanagi will procure the requisite papers duly," said the blunette evenly. "May I speak to Saeki-san?"

"Certainly, if he doesn't object. Saeki?" His petite friend tilted his head in Saeki's direction. "I'll be back soon," he added, rising from the floor and making for the door.

"I'm honored to be requested by Yukimura-san," said the ninja, bowing. He'd never liked manners much, but they were a requirement in these kind of situations – which, thankfully, were quite rare for him. "What can I help you with?"

The pale lilac-blue eyes met his own aquamarine ones squarely. "Kirihara-kun should arrive soon with a few companions," he informed Saeki. "I would like you to assist them in infiltrating the palace prisons and rescuing the agent who was arrested earlier today."

"… Kirihara Akaya?" Saeki hoped his shock didn't show. Never had he thought the little devil would venture willingly anywhere within a mile's radius of Fuji Syuusuke after what had transpired between them. Yukimura had to know of Kirihara's history with the Akasagi… right?

But this wasn't the time to think about it. Time was a precious commodity, and every second that ticked past meant that the return of the police to their usual posts was a second nearer. "Infiltrate the palace prisons, rescue your agent; is there anything else?"

"Perhaps… Kirihara-kun's companions are to stay in the prison or the palace to carry out operations later on, so if you could ensure that they are safe and escort Marui and Kirihara out, I'd appreciate it," said Yukimura. "Naturally, I leave it up to your discretion, along with the number of people you feel are needed to pull this off successfully."

"Understood. If I may be excused…" The ninja bowed again, then glanced at his master, who had just returned. "Syuusuke –"

"Go on; it's your call now." The smaller male smiled. "It's a mission – you know what that means, ne?"

A ninja's mission – failure meant death or imprisonment; success was mandatory and expected by all. Saeki knew that well. Smiling crookedly, he bowed again and made for the door.

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The single silvery strand of moonlight barely made a difference in the almost completely darkness of the house, but for Kirihara, it was enough. His feet were sure as he navigated the halls of the Fuji's huge complex.

Making his way down one winding passage after another, Kirihara painstakingly avoided the high-security areas as he headed towards the very heart of the sprawling mansion. It had been a while since he'd been here, but the layout of the mansion was still ingrained in his mind.

This was the place where he had learned basic self-defense and various calligraphic styles. This was the place where he had learned the mysteries of the human race. This was the place where he had learned what hate – and shame – really meant.

Travelling indoors was a long and roundabout route, but Kirihara knew that it was also safer by far than the outdoors, where the ninjas had him at their mercy. The Fuji family was very confident in its bodyguards and exterior defenses – the only interior security measure was the nightingale floor, which covered only the most important corridors.

Kirihara made sure to keep his feet off the floors at any point when he recognized the familiar pattern in the wooden tiles. He had asked his companions to wait outside the gates of the compound, since they, unlike him, did not have the house's blueprint in their heads and would inevitably make a misstep, thus alerting the ninjas to the presence of intruders. Besides, he didn't need them for what he was here to do.

_Fuji Syuusuke…_

It had been _his_ decision; he had not been ordered to do this by Yukimura or Yanagi. He was the one who had chosen to confront the notorious Akasagi who had taught him the darkest human emotions.

The bright glow from the room ahead of him made him pull back instinctively. This was the first light he had seen since entering the inner complex, where the main family lived; it seemed that the clan leader, Fuji Yumiko, was not in residence at the moment.

Yukimura had said that Yuuta was missing. This led Kirihara to conclude that his target, Fuji Syuusuke, was in this room.

Cautiously, even more cautiously than before, he inched closer to the room. Its rice paper walls did little to block the light and muffle the voices in it. Kirihara detected two, no, three voices, all of which were familiar to him – Yukimura's, Fuji's and Saeki's.

He would have pondered on the presence of former, being as Yukimura had no reason whatsoever to be in that room, but the door suddenly slid open, light pouring into the passageway. Kirihara flinched – the light was painful – and hurried to retreat into the safety of the shadows, but it was already too late.

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Fuji's eyes snapped open in surprise. There was someone in the corridor – someone who was trying to hide, someone who had no right to be there… Someone who was uncannily familiar, with glowing red eyes…

"Saeki, _stop_!"

Saeki froze instantly, the five deadly shuriken blades caught before they could be fully launched. One, knocked from its rightful path at the very last moment, ripped the rice paper wall of the passageway and vanished beyond with barely a whisper.

Red eyes blinked painfully in the sudden, harsh light, slowly fading to a normal white color. Fuji rose and walked to the door where Saeki stood. "… Akaya."

The boy made no reply, avoiding Fuji's eyes. Saeki frowned. "_Akaya_?"

Fuji ignored the incredulity in his friend's voice, still staring at the figure before him. "You came."

This time, Kirihara responded. "Yeah. I – I wanted to sort things out…"

"Please leave, Saeki," said the Akasagi calmly. "Kirihara-kun probably has companions outside the compound waiting for him. Once you have completed the preparations for this mission, you may wait with them."

Saeki looked at his friend and master, opening his mouth as if to protest – but what he saw in the slim brunette's eyes made him instead submit quietly to his orders. He slipped away silently down the dark corridor, disappearing within seconds and leaving them alone.

Turning his attention back to Kirihara, Fuji took a step backwards into his room. "Come in," he invited.

The boy looked as though he was about to refuse, but he glanced up and met the brunette's sapphire eyes. He swallowed his words and obeyed the Akasagi reluctantly, entering the room as if it were the executioner's.

Silence fell between the two. Fuji's eyes had yet to close since he had recognized Kirihara. The younger male avoided his gaze, resolutely focusing on the door frame beyond.

(Flashback)

Unable to suppress his sudden desire to get out of doors, Fuji Syuusuke dragged Saeki along with him to the furthest edge of the gardens. The fifteen-year-old was restless; he just felt like leaving the scrutiny of his family for a while and taking a breather.

About a minute after reaching the said area, Saeki had an uncomfortable feeling that they were not alone. Whoever was watching them was unfamiliar, not one of his fellow ninjas – this was an intruder, and more than likely to be hostile.

The sudden loud rustle from a particular bush was all that the ninja-cum-bodyguard needed to confirm his suspicions. He was on it within seconds – and, as expected, there was a person hiding there, someone Saeki did not recognize.

Fuji watched with a somewhat bemused expression on his face as his friend yanked out a humanoid shape from the manicured bush. The person – no other primate had the vocal ability to spew expletives like that – was thrashing around like a large fish caught on a hook, biting and kicking in his efforts to get free. Saeki, putting his ninjutsu training to good use, quickly and (relatively) painlessly incapacitated the intruder. His captive went out like a light.

"Shall I kill him?" inquired the older teen, expertly flipping the human wildcat onto his back on the grass. His companion came over for a closer inspection.

The carotid artery was throbbing, almost visibly, underneath the pale skin of the now-exposed neck of the unconscious intruder. Both friends knew that a single deep slash would bring red lifeblood gushing forth; the tremendous blood loss alone would be more than enough to bring about his death.

Fuji knelt down, tentatively reached over and gently brushing away the leaves and other debris from their captive's face. His eyes were wide with concern. "Saeki… he's only our age," he murmured, his voice low. "Let him live."

His friend raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were so kindly towards strangers," he commented. "Well, it's fine with me – but what shall we do with him if we don't kill him?"

"He can stay with us for a while, until he can fend for himself." The young master's eyes were now hard with resolve as he rose to his feet. "Bring him to me when he wakes. If he wishes to stay, I will speak to Yumiko-nee-san myself."

Saeki knew when he was supposed to act as a friend and when he was expected to play the role of a bodyguard. Swallowing the questions that had already risen to his lips, he bowed. "As you wish."

~x~o~x~

"_I hate you!"_

Those words resounded, damning, detesting, daring. It was the first of the many times they were to scream at the sheer, paralyzing weight of the confusion that pressed on them from all sides, leaving them unable to do anything against it but scream.

Fuji looked up at his accuser, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Oh really? So, now that we've established that you're in love with me, whose room shall we use – yours or mine?" he inquired, his tone mild despite the outrageous content of his speech.

"What the –" Kirihara was, unsurprisingly, at an utter loss for words, groping in vain for a suitable comeback. "I – who the hell would _ever_ want to sleep with _you_?!"

"Plenty of people," was the smooth return. "You'll have to wait for my services, Kirihara-han – I believe I have an appointment with Kanzaki-han tonight, after which I will be free to accompany you."

The younger teen sputtered, quite undone in the face of such shamelessness. Saeki could only shake his head in wonder – Fuji Syuusuke was probably the only person who could have made the use of blatant sexual connotations in a conversation a new art form.

At that time, the only occupants of the Fuji family's city residence were Fuji Syuusuke, Kirihara Akaya, Saeki and the ten-strong group of Rokkaku ninjas whose purpose was naturally to guard the active seventeen-year-old Akasagi. Yuuta had been forced to relocate with the rest of the clan to one of their many bases in the countryside and continue his training there.

Fuji had been inaugurated as an active family member two years before, not long after Kirihara had become an addition to the clan's closed community. Kirihara, of course, came to know the Fuji family's exclusive trade pretty quickly – but, even after all this time, he was still visibly discomfited by the idea and had never really gotten along well with his rescuers.

Perhaps this was because of his deep yet inexplicable hatred of the petite brunette who had saved his life and taken him in. Kirihara knew he should be grateful to the Akasagi, but knowing something in one's head and behaving according to that is much easier said than done.

Besides, the emotion was mutual. Fuji returned the younger boy's blind hate in kind. Hate begets hate – it was an accepted fact.

Kirihara hated the way Fuji was always smothered in praise from almost everyone who knew him. The younger boy detested the Akasagi's unshakable confidence in himself and his abilities; he couldn't stand that the slight boy was better than him in almost everything – in just about any activity from ikebana and traditional tea ceremonies to self-defense and air-rifles, Fuji would come out on top. At least he had soon stopped losing to the brunette in most of the activities that demanded physical strength.

He hated the utter perfection of Fuji Syuusuke's existence.

It ran him deep to see how _easy_ life was for the older teen. Fuji appeared to cruise through life like a boat crossing a lake, with the skies clear and bright reflecting from the calm, still waters that were as smooth as a mirror. Nothing untoward had ever dared touch him – it was what many would call a charmed life.

Fuji was inhumanly smart, unnaturally beautiful, unhealthily rich and yet naturally gifted in just about any art, sport or subject under the sun. His social skills were beyond comparison; he seemed well-liked, if not loved, by everyone who knew him, and strangers were under his spell by the end of their very first meeting with him. He never even fell sick.

Kirihara himself was quite the opposite. Born prematurely, a weak infant, into a hostile environment; treated as his family's flogging post, the one to blame for all misfortune that befell them; nearly murdered by his own father and forced to kill him instead in self-defense. Rendered homeless at the age of twelve, living in the streets and eating what mice and lizards he could catch to take the edge off of gnawing starvation... Indeed, his life was a ship battered in a bloody maelstrom compared to Fuji's.

From young he had been told he was a useless burden on his family, a child that should have been strangled at birth. He fell sick innumerable times, suffered countless injuries from his siblings and relatives who wished he had never existed. His body grew stronger eventually, hardened from his constant struggle for survival – a struggle that Kirihara only went through to spite those who wanted him dead.

It was no wonder that he was jealous of Fuji, born with a golden spoon in his mouth and treasured by all who surrounded him since he was born. Kirihara wanted to have the affection, talents and confidence that Fuji had – and because he couldn't have them, he hated the one who did with all his might.

However, Fuji too hated Kirihara, for a strangely similar reason.

Unlike him, Kirihara was human. Humans had the right of choice. Fuji did not.

Kirihara had no family, no duty, no fixed path for his life to take. He was accountable to no one; it was his choice and his choice alone to live or to die. He had freedom of a kind that Fuji Syuusuke could only dream of.

The preceding generations of the Fuji family had striven to produce offspring that combined the best qualities of their parents, similar to the artificial selection practiced on plants and animals. Technology had advanced steadily through the years, and about three decades ago, scientists theorized that creating an entirely genetically manufactured human being was possible.

It was an irresistible lure for people obsessed with perfection. The Fuji clan immediately utilized their vast financial resources to this end, and before long had an army of scientists, sworn to secrecy, working to create the ultimate Akasagi.

Year after year passed; the genes had to be analyzed, screened and selected, after which innumerable possible DNA combinations were proposed and rejected. Many of those considered suitable were injected into embryos but failed to grow. Of the hundreds that managed to form the beginnings of a human fetus, several died before reaching a state of sustainable growth. This was not all – foster mothers had to be found, women desperate for cash and willing to sell their wombs. They too had to be screened for compatibility.

Finally, three babies were born, over the course of six years. The first was a female, and she was the first of the engineered embryos to successfully complete the exhausting journey to the moment she drew breath. Named Yumiko, her birth was followed by a string of failed pregnancies, until the fifth year, when the second engineered infant saw the light for the first time. The last infant, a control experiment – in other words, formed by natural selection and not genetically modified in any way – came into the world a year later. Both were males. The first was named Syuusuke; the second, Yuuta.

Fuji had known all along that he had been completely genetically engineered; natural selection played little or no role in his creation. His was just one of hundreds of embryos who had somehow been lucky enough to fulfill its genetic coding.

Someone, somewhere, had a list describing each gene in his body – Gene No. 3361 on Chromosome 19, Allele 2, coding for an easy smile, perhaps? To say that it was unnerving was an understatement. It was downright freaky, like something out of a Frankenstein movie from two centuries back.

The implications of having each and every gene in your identity carefully screened and selected were infinite. Fuji often found himself wondering if he was truly the one controlling his actions, behavior and even thought processes. It was an utterly, hopelessly helpless feeling, one that scared him in a way nothing else could, nobody else could understand.

Moreover, there was the strict, rigid course of life for a Fuji, one that was practically set in stone. There was only one path for a Fuji to take, only one future to look forward to – the road of an Akasagi.

Choice was not an issue. It was what was expected; the duty of the youngest generation was to fulfill this expectation and preserve the ancient bloodlines of the Akasagi clan.

Thus, Fuji Syuusuke inevitably would hate Kirihara – for his ultimate freedom to do anything and everything he might have a fancy to do, while he himself had his future plotted out before him in stark black and white. He had the one thing Fuji did not have, the only thing Fuji had ever wanted so badly in his whole life.

~x~o~x~

Confrontation was inevitable.

The tension between them had built with each passing day spent in the same vicinity, and with unforeseen speed. Each longed to rip the other to pieces and destroy the person whose very existence was a mockery of their own.

On a sweltering day in summer, their willpower finally snapped.

The heat only helped tempers fray, and nobody, not even Saeki, had been in a particularly good mood that day. Fuji had woken late, having returned long past midnight the night before, and his customary smile was strained; the servants kept out of his way, wary of his palpable irritation. Kirihara, meanwhile, had snapped at three servants within the past two hours before vanishing into his own rooms.

Saeki glanced at his moody friend. "Had a bad night?" he ventured cautiously.

"Saa, I really don't know... I mean, having your ass plowed ragged with nothing to show but a cheque? It might actually not be totally bad, you know?" Sarcasm dripped from every word. "Seriously, this is all just _so_ worth it."

"Well, I suppose it's to gain your clients' trust, isn't it?" tried Saeki, knowing better than to directly tell Fuji to calm down. "In the long run, you should be able to get millions off of them –"

"'_In the long run_' – do you honestly think I care?" snapped the brunette. His brilliant blue eyes burned with helpless rage. "I never _asked_ to be born a – a _whore_! I could be so much _more_ – but no, I _must_ go out there and sell my body like a brothel girl, just because I _can_!"

The screen door slid sharply to the side. Kirihara stood there, exuding anger of an intensity that rivaled Fuji's. "Have some consideration for us lesser beings, why don't you?" he gritted. "Unlike those '_brothel girls'_, _you_ don't need to worry about when your next meal is going to be or where you're going to take shelter from the rain!"

"Oh, like _you_ need to!" Fuji retorted. Less than pleased by the sudden unwelcome intrusion, he didn't notice Saeki beating a quick retreat now that there was someone else for him to vent on. "Mind your own business, why don't you?! Someone like _you_ would _never_ understand!"

"'Someone like _me_'?! What are you trying to say – that you're above me?" growled the younger boy. "You –"

The brunette was now standing. "And so what if I _am_ above you? The higher you are, the further you fall – think yourself lucky that you're already firmly on the ground!"

Kirihara did not back down in the least. "Arrogant, uncaring, despicable _bitch_!" he flung at the other teenager. "When was the last time you stopped to throw coins to the beggars in the streets? You've never even _seen_ them, I'll bet! You're too _busy_ in the richer sectors of the city to get your feet dirty in the slums!"

"I would give my weight in diamonds to be given the most basic of human rights that I can _choose_ to walk into those slums!" cried the Akasagi. "You have no idea of what it is to be me!"

"But of course I don't! I'm an orphan, I'm a street kid, I'm a burden on society! _You_ were never beaten once in your entire lifetime; _I_ was beaten _every day_ – for years!" The frustration and anger that had built up over the past two years refused to be restrained, gushing from his tongue like a river bursting its dam. "You were treasured, cared for, loved! You succeed at everything you try; people fall over themselves to get your attention –"

Fuji laughed, sounding hysterical. "Kirihara, all they want is someone to screw! Do _you_ know what it feels like to submit to the touch of someone you hate? Do _you_ know what it is to be wholly artificial, _manufactured_ like some plastic sex toy? Have _you_ ever doubted whether you are really the one controlling your own mind and body and not the people who chose your genes? I highly doubt so!"

"Well, at least people _want_ you! Me – I was never meant to exist!" shouted Kirihara. "Maybe you're manufactured, but I'm an accident!"

"So what? You're _human_!" The brunette's face was terrible with pain and hate. "You're everything I'm not!"

The dark-haired boy took in a breath, as though to reply with another tirade of accusations and insults, then let it out again without saying anything. Heated green and smoldering blue eyes met, and everything seemed to freeze for a brief second, suspended for an instant out of time and space, a moment that seemed to last forever…

And, just like that, the moment ended, and with it broke the spell. The blind hate and mindless fury receded, morphing and welling back again at full force in the form of something else.

_Kirihara needed to know that Fuji was not perfect._

_Fuji needed to know that Kirihara did not have total control over himself._

_Kirihara needed to feel that he was desired._

_Fuji needed to feel that he was in control._

Somehow, in that frozen moment of utter clarity, they had understood each other completely. Nothing more needed to be said.

In a single, breathless second, Kirihara found himself flat on the floor, pinned down by the older teen. Their prior battle heat was quickly being replaced by something quite different.

Their yukatas were already loose; Fuji's eyes promised dark, carnal ecstasy to come. And for what was probably the first time in his life, Kirihara did not resist.

~x~o~x~

_Indescribable…_

It was not love. Admittedly there was something between them, but whatever it was, it was not love.

_Desperate…_

Neither did it seem to be lust. Sexual desire was a relatively small component. No, it was something else, something less physical.

_Insatiable…_

Something about their illicit unions was deeply satisfying, on a psychological level. Old scars that had thus far withstood the passage of time were finally beginning to fade.

_Forbidden…_

They still did not openly acknowledge it, acting as though nothing had happened between them. Though some others in the household noticed what was happening before long, most dared not comment upon it.

_Impulsive…_

Generally, nothing had changed so much that it was significant. But when the old hatred started building up again, when it reached unbearable levels, they instinctively sought each other out to vent their frustrations.

_Addictive…_

Slowly but surely, they were growing addicted to the immediate fulfillment they gained off each other. There might have been other people able and willing to give them what they needed; yet they remained fixated on each other.

_Inevitable…_

The intervals between each time were growing steadily shorter. Their addiction was becoming increasingly compulsive; they were finding it harder and harder to behave normally.

_Fearsome..._

In time, they had come to rely so much on it that they began to fear it. They tried to avoid each other, to control their need, but to no avail. It came to the point where both of them felt that it was consuming them, destroying them from the inside out, much like the hate they had been trying to curb with it.

_Doomed..._

By this point, most of the clan (Yuuta included) had returned to the city residence. They did not take long to find out about it. When they did… their fury was terrible.

_Shattered…_

Kirihara Akaya was expelled from the household without delay. He had stayed with them for almost four years.

(End Flashback)

The many memories weighed heavy on the tense silence between them, memories that both had tried their best to forget… but to no avail.

They couldn't break the silence, couldn't remember how to speak to each other. How many times had they had a decent conversation in the four years they had spent together? Two hands might possibly be enough to count with.

At last, Kirihara found his tongue. "I lived on _rats_ after that, you know," he commented, bitterly humorous. "What happened to _you_?"

"I was sent to London in disgrace…" whispered the pretty brunette.

"Yeah, see? You _always_ get the better end of the deal! I –" The dark-haired male bit his lip hard, forcing himself to stop. "This is just not working. Can't we simply forget this, forget that it happened, forget whatever we had and… move on? "

Fuji nearly laughed. "Forget? Do you think it's so straightforward? If we could forget so easily, _nothing_ would have happened!"

"Then what do you think we can do to come clean?" demanded Kirihara, frustrated. "We can't just –" The unexpected light brush of a finger to his lips cut him off abruptly.

"You _are_ naïve," murmured the Akasagi, soft breath ghosting over the younger's ear. He'd moved so fast; Kirihara hadn't even noticed that he had come around the table already. "Do you really think hate vanishes when you want it to?"

"Can you truthfully say that you do not hate me, even now?" he continued, not giving the dark-haired youth a chance to answer. "Can you honestly claim that you have no need of me? Can you _prove_ that I can no longer control you the way I once did?"

Kirihara glared at him in defiance. "_Yes_!"

"Saa… prove it, then…" Fuji's deft hands had already slid from his shoulders, reaching his back, chest, stomach… there was something sadistic in his smile...

Just as he'd expected, his touch was slowly undoing the younger male. Kirihara's breath was coming slightly faster; his pupils slowly dilated as his eyes took on a scarlet tint.

The Akasagi's smile grew. "Perhaps we should tell Saeki to wait…" he suggested, voice barely above a sensual whisper.

Saeki. _The mission. Yukimura._

Mustering all his willpower, Kirihara flung himself away from Fuji. "No," he gasped, trying to regain his composure. "I – I need to go..."

He'd been stupid to think that returning here would erase the past. Now, though, he knew – it was a lifetime sentence of hate, pain and shame for them both.

With a final, haunted look, he fled into the night.

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**A/N: Whew! That must be the longest chapter I have ever uploaded… O.o sixteen pages is twice the length of most others, but I thought that cutting this into two would really disrupt the flow and kill your interest before the next chapter. I **_**could**_** have cut it off after 6 pages, but that's just too short, isn't it? :-X**

**Should I expect rotten tomatoes and eggs for this pairing? –cringe- Sorry, but this is kinda required for the plot, though I do admit I had a little **_**too**_** much fun writing about Fuji and Kirihara's past together and was probably a lot more long-winded than absolutely necessary. I wasn't originally a fan of FujiXKirihara, but after this chapter I felt that it really wasn't so bad after all.**

**Do tell me what you think, feedback makes me feel loved and I really appreciate getting them ^^ I notice that some of you are slacking off and not reviewing –shakes finger– please resume reviewing! I'm sure there's plenty to comment on here – I did give you an extra long chappie didn't I? –pouts-**

**Please Review!**


	5. V Daite Senorita

_**V – Daite Senorita (Hug Me, My Lady)**_

"They've found Jirou," announced Inui.

Sanada allowed himself a sigh of relief before tension took over again. He'd been genuinely worried when two hours' organized search yielded nothing of the king's younger adoptive brother. He wouldn't put it past Yukimura to arrange for Niou to kidnap the narcoleptic and thereby manipulate Atobe into doing all kinds of unthinkable things.

However, having Marui sitting in the lock-up was not quite as relaxing as he'd hoped. The redhead had ways and means of going about things, plus an annoying talent at wriggling out of tight spots… which meant that, since the prisons were now minimally guarded, there was an uncomfortably high chance of his cell being empty when Sanada returned.

As he contemplated his current situation, frustration built up inside him at the utter ludicrousness of it all until he wanted to break something. He, Sanada Genichirou, was sitting in his office waiting for reports on the citywide search for the king's ex-lover – while Yukimura, the Kurosagi, was probably laughing up his sleeve as he planned Marui's escape. It was downright disgusting! His knuckles crackled audibly as he clenched his fists…

Before he could do any serious damage, however, Inui spoke again. "The squad that found him seems to have arrived. Do you wish to check the identity of –"

"I'll see him," cut in Sanada quickly, not wanting to listen to the data master's droning voice any more than he absolutely had to. It was only making him even more annoyed at his situation.

Going to the door, he gave the inadvertent miscreant a perfunctory once-over and then nodded to Jirou's escort to take him away. The officer and his partner exchanged puzzled looks, but then shrugged and guided Jirou in the direction of the main palace building.

Sanada refrained from dwelling on how low-caliber the police officers seemed to be nowadays – what with that sergeant getting himself kidnapped and these men taking forever to pull off a thorough search of the city, it was really no wonder that much of the populace did not have much respect for the police force. Perhaps ridding them of the Kurosagi would raise their opinions a few notches…

There he was again, thinking of it as 'the Kurosagi case' – when it was actually much more than that. This was to be the real, final conclusion of his and Yukimura's relationship, not simply the jailing of a petty swindler. Referring to it as 'the Kurosagi case' was almost as if he were trying to pretend that it had nothing to do with Yukimura.

When had lying to his own self become a habit? When had he started telling himself things he knew were untrue, while ignoring the painfully obvious facts?

Now that he tried, he couldn't recall a time when he had known the stark truth and chosen to believe it.

Yukimura's leukemia had not been sudden. Yukimura's complete breakdown had not been a surprise. Yukimura's vow for revenge had not been unexpected.

Yet he'd always told himself otherwise.

Because he'd believed that Yukimura would never change from the pure, bright angel untainted by the darkness of the world that he had been when Sanada first knew him.

* * *

"Sanada-san is interesting," commented Jirou.

One of his escorts, the one called Momoshiro, snorted. "He's too damned serious. I swear, he's got a stick shoved up his ar–"

"Momo!" The other escort, Oishi, looked scandalized.

"Okay, okay, he's got a porcupine permanently embedded in his rear end," amended Momo. "Better, Oishi-sempai?"

His senior just let out an exasperated sigh. "It'll do."

"He only got into his position because his wife's a noble," the younger officer told Jirou. "At least, that's what An-chan said."

Jirou blinked, trying to recall ever having seen the Police First Deputy Commissioner before. "Who's his wife? Do I know her?"

"She's Oshitari Miya – cousin of Oshitari Yuushi," replied Momo. "You know him, don't you? The guy who takes care of the servants and bodyguards and all that for Atobe-sama?"

"Ah… but isn't Yuushi also Atobe's best friend?" inquired Jirou. "He's been around, like, forever!"

Oishi's brows were furrowed, showing his anxiety. "Momo, we shouldn't speak of our superiors like this –"

"Jirou!" A figure appeared around a corner up ahead. With dark silver hair and porcelain features, it was unmistakably the king.

"Atobe!" Jirou immediately abandoned his escorts to glomp his adoptive brother. "You didn't need to send out the police for me; I was on my way home already!"

The older male sniffed haughtily. "You're blaming _me_ for worrying? You should have told someone where you were going!"

"Mou… I didn't know _that_," pouted the youth. Behind him, the two policemen discreetly made their escape.

Atobe cuffed him lightly on the head. "Just tell me next time, okay?" Upon receiving an affirmative, contrite nod, he continued, "Have they found Mizuki yet?"

Jirou shrugged. "I don't think so. Why? What happened to Mizuki-kun?"

"He's also missing." Seeing that Jirou was unconvinced, Atobe added, "He hasn't been seen for days, and I'm getting concerned. I told the police to search for him, too…" Suddenly he paused, noticing something. "Jirou… you're awake?!"

* * *

Yagyuu had Niou pinned against the wall when a phone rang. Niou cursed, recognizing his own cell phone's ringtone, only to be silenced by his partner's sudden, heated kiss. Both of them conveniently ignored the phone's insistent ringing. Eventually, it stopped.

They had relocated to the bed, their hands fumbling at each other's clothes, when another phone rang – this time the house phone. It seemed that whoever was trying to reach Niou was quite persistent.

Niou let out a sigh of exasperation and felt for the receiver on the bedside table, pressing the speaker button. "What?" he demanded impatiently.

"Hello, Niou." The voice was unmistakably Yukimura's, a trace of irony in his tone.

The trickster was not at all pleased. "Piss off, Yukimura. You have ten seconds to explain yourself. I am a busy man, I'll have you know; there are better things to do with my time than to chat with you over the phone!"

"I apologize. Obviously I have interrupted something," came the cool observation.

"You did," snapped Niou, distracted by Yagyuu's hands resting warmly on his belly. "Get on with it."

"Very well. I'd like you to prevent the police, who are under Atobe's orders to find Mizuki Hajime, from carrying this out successfully. Also, keep a discreet surveillance on Mizuki – I want to be informed as to his movements, company, etc.," said Yukimura. "I don't suppose you wish to hear the explanation now?"

"You are as perceptive as usual," was the sardonic reply. Yagyuu's hands had moved to his thighs, massaging slowly; Niou swallowed a moan. "Is there a time limit?"

The blunette sounded amused. "Tonight, or even _now_ if possible. The police have been searching for hours already; I believe he has left the city."

"_Now_ is not possible. Tonight… maybe. Is that all? Yes? Good. Now go away and leave me in peace," ordered the silver-haired male, already reaching for the speaker button.

"Certainly. Enjoy." The call ended.

Niou pressed the speaker button again to turn off the hollow beeping noise and let Yagyuu push him down onto the mattress. In this position, Yagyuu's glasses gone and both their shirts half-unbuttoned, neither of them had much difficulty making up for lost time.

Some time later, when they'd sufficiently recovered from their simultaneous climax, Niou gently nudged his lover. "I wonder if Yukimura was getting hard and wishing he had someone around to make out with earlier."

Yagyuu only smiled and pulled the silver-haired trickster closer.

* * *

As Yukimura had instructed, Yanagi put through a call to Niou after sunset. "Niou, this is Yanagi."

"Mmng… I'm _tired_, Renji," whined the trickster, sounding as though he'd been dragged out of bed at an unholy hour to answer the phone. "I'll do what Yukimura asked _later_, okay?"

Yanagi sighed. "No, it's _not_ okay. It needs to be done _now_."

"Agh, damn you impatient people…" grumbled Niou. "Tell me, why is it so important that it _has_ to be done when I'm asleep on my feet?"

"The police may be slow, but with four hours – and counting – even _they _can get something done," the data master informed him. "It is imperative that Mizuki Hajime is not found or held by anyone other than us."

"What, that little slut?" Niou's voice was incredulous. "Why the –"

"Don't swear," interrupted Yanagi. "He's the reason Fuji Syuusuke is working with us right now, that's why 'that little slut' is so important."

There was a pause as Niou digested the information. "Ah… he's a sly one, Mizuki. Let me guess – he was the one who kidnapped Yuuta, and Yukimura promised the very anxious Syuusuke that he'd get Yuuta back for him?"

"Correct. I see that you are keeping up with the underground information," commented the brunette. "That said, kindly deploy your shadows immediately. Instruct them to sniff Mizuki out and keep an unobtrusive eye on him. Make sure they inform you – us – of his movements and companions, if any. Data is always better complete."

"Of course," said Niou dryly. "I'll send Kamio and Ibu; they can be trusted as much as the next person."

"Thank you. Would you like to know how Kirihara is doing?" offered Yanagi.

Niou's interest seemed to have been perked. "Eh? He's already started on his mission?"

"Yes. He left with Hiyoshi and Mukahi about two and a half minutes ago," explained the data master. "Yukimura wants them to team up with the Fuji household's ninjas, so Kirihara will likely be visiting Fuji Syuusuke for a while. In addition to the traffic at this time and the time taken to get past the security, I predict that they will be inside the palace in two and a half hours."

"Hmm… this sounds interesting. Do you happen to have trackers on him?" inquired the trickster.

Yanagi smiled, though Niou couldn't see it. "As expected of the notorious Shirosagi, you have good intuition," he remarked. "It so happens that I _do_ have trackers on him… and, being the latest model I acquired from you –"

" – they have inbuilt cameras. I hope he doesn't know about them, or the footage you get will be a lot less entertaining," commented Niou. "Send me a thread of the camera feed, will you?"

"Send Kamio and Ibu off first."

"Fine, fine.'

* * *

The city's nightlife zone and the palace's east wing were separated by an army of trees, an acid moat and a titanium alloy electric fence – the best that money could buy. Underneath the moat was the eastern surveillance office, where the guards kept an eye on things on this side of the castle.

Everything was the very latest, most advanced military technology. Anything that crossed the fence was documented, from bird droppings to the occasional remote-controlled plane. Intruders got in on pure dumb luck and coincidence.

The east wing was where the palace's hospital, comfort rooms and police department (with a small prison) were located. It was the building housing departments that were considered 'outside jurisdiction'; each department was a discrete entity and functioned with little interaction with the others or with the main palace.

Prisons, normally used for political criminals, were located near this wing. It was here that Marui Bunta had been imprisoned, on First Deputy Commissioner Sanada's request.

Where the trees ended, the city's nightlife zone began. Bars, nightclubs, stripper cafes, gambling dens and many more jostled for space and competed for business with the lower-end shopping malls in the pleasure district. Its streets were filled with yuppies looking to have a good time, roadside peddlers selling pirated goods, prostitutes hoping to find clients, shady businessmen on their way to a meeting with their colleagues, etc., etc…

It was easy for Saeki, Kirihara and their companions to blend with the highly diverse nightwalkers. Nobody paid them much attention save the hookers and solicitors of several establishments. They were at the tree line less than an hour after leaving the Fuji mansion.

While awaiting Kirihara before setting out, Saeki had made himself acquainted with the two companions the younger male had brought. The redhead, Gakuto, and the brunette, Hiyoshi, were both trained in undercover work; of course, they _did_ work under Yukimura's Kurosagi operation. Apparently, they were also Kirihara's subordinates. The two of them seemed to know each other well; the ninja guessed that they had worked together before.

Saeki himself had brought two of his ninjas, Ryou and Itsuki, for the mission. Both of them were among the most highly skilled at stealth and were also counted as his close friends – he trusted them almost unconditionally. This time, he had sent them ahead to scout the castle's defenses.

As they entered the trees, Saeki raised his head and made a howling noise that was uncannily similar to the hunting song of a wolf. A few seconds later, a haunting whistle like a ghost train from the nineteenth century floated over the leaves' rustling and the muted noise of the pleasure district.

Saeki smiled. "Ah, there's Itt-chan."

The other three looked puzzled. "What?"

Before he could answer, the high chittering of a bat pierced the night. "Ryou," he identified. "It's safe now. Let's go."

"Wait a sec," interrupted Gakuto. "What do you mean? What were those noises?"

"We have a right to know," added Hiyoshi, rather defensively.

Kirihara said nothing, a point which Saeki took note of. To the pair, he explained, "Ninjas use signals like animal noises to communicate when in dangerous territory."

"That's rather outdated, isn't it? Can't you just use the vibration communicators –"

"No. You see, when we define the area to be safe, that means that anything that can detect a human presence has been disabled. However, the instruments that can detect radio, electrical, and other waves used in communication devices are harder to disable and thus are usually left untouched. After all, it would be very suspicious if all security monitoring this area suddenly stops functioning," pointed out the ninja. "This may pose a slight inconvenience, but is more effective overall."

They had started heading deeper into the trees already, moving as quickly quietly as they were able. "But doesn't that mean we can't communicate with each other at all once inside the castle?" inquired Gakuto, jumping lightly over a large, fallen branch.

Saeki smiled crookedly. "Worry about _getting_ in first, bouncy kid."

* * *

In his office, Sanada paced impatiently, back and forth past the bespectacled data master who apparently was so engrossed in whatever he was doing that he didn't even tell Sanada to sit down and be quiet. Even if Inui had tried to say something like that, the brunette probably wouldn't have listened. Good Kami-sama, he'd been sitting down, relatively quiet, for _hours_.

He couldn't stand much more of this waiting around for news. Atobe sure had nerve, ordering them to stop all investigations to find his old flame. This Mizuki was known for being a slut, and an irritating one at that.

This was annoying at a whole new level – annoying through absence. By disappearing, Mizuki was causing such chaos that even he, its perpetrator, would probably be amazed.

If Atobe insisted on continuing the search any longer… Sanada would likely explode like an atom bomb. Or personally go and see the king to try to persuade him otherwise. Neither of which would be particularly effective. This situation really was the pits.

"Sanada." Inui's voice somehow pierced the cloud of irritation hanging around the First Deputy Police Commissioner. "Go home."

Sanada blinked. "Come again?"

"Go home," repeated the data master. "You're frustrated and exhausted. Go home and get a good night's sleep. We will not be able to conduct Marui Bunta's interrogation tonight. This is the best time for you to take a rest."

Now that Inui mentioned it, Sanada could feel fatigue all the way to his bones. His body yearned for a real rest, not the three-hour catnaps he'd been living on for the past few days. Perhaps it really was for the best…

Sanada grabbed his cap and shoved it firmly down onto his head. "I'm off, then. Inui, you should take a rest too."

Inui's spectacles glinted. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," replied Sanada, striding out of the office. He had never felt more thankful to leave it.

* * *

The moat glittered potently in the faint moonlight in front of the little group. As Saeki knelt to inspect it, the trees behind them rustled, and two figures dropped to the ground.

Kirihara and the others immediately tensed, reaching for their weapons, but the blue-eyed ninja quickly stopped them. "They're safe."

"Are they your ninjas?" inquired Gakuto, still skeptical.

"Yes, they are. This is Itt-chan; that's Ryou," introduced Saeki.

The redhead shrugged. "I'm Gakuto. He's Hiyoshi. Nice to meet you. Now can we get on with it?"

"Sure. Itt-chan, Ryou, what have you found?" Saeki addressed his friends.

Ryou pulled off his hood and shook out his long hair. "That moat is full of highly concentrated sulphuric acid; it can burn us pretty badly. And the fence on the other side is live metal. I'm not sure how high the voltage is, but it's definitely high enough to fry our brains."

"I've put in Yanagi-san's stuff," added Itsuki. "He said he would feed false signals to the wave detectors. It should be safe to use our communication devices now."

"Good." The blue-eyed ninja began to arrange the earpiece and voice transfer instruments in their appropriate places. Each member of their little group suffered briefly until their earpieces were successfully implanted and Yanagi's voice guided them through the business of attaching the rest.

The first words they heard once they were done was Gakuto's complaint of, "Equipment is meant to come with instructions, damn it!"

Yanagi's voice was perfectly clear through the earpieces, and his amusement was obvious. "I apologize, Mukahi-kun, but next I would like you to put in those contact lenses..."

"The iris-cams?!" Gakuto sounded horrified. "_Yanagi_!! You –"

"I gave you instructions on them before, didn't I?"

"Damn you!"

* * *

"If you don't have a rope ladder, I expect a light metal link chain would have to suffice." The data master was watching through the agents' iris-cameras, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "I estimate the moat to be about ten feet wide…"

Yukimura tuned out from Yanagi's instructions, focusing instead on his plan. It was highly risky, but he had a feeling that Fuji could be trusted on this – as long as the deal between them was safe.

Having promised Fuji that he would find Mizuki, whom the Akasagi suspected had kidnapped Yuuta, the blunette had to make sure that _he_ was the one who got his hands on the slippery male. It would do him no good if Atobe found him first and brought him back to the harem. Fuji's loyalties were short-lived at best and fleetingly transient at worst; if Atobe had Mizuki, Fuji would go to Atobe, and Yukimura would be at a clear disadvantage.

The pretty blunette pressed 6 and then speed dial on his cell phone. When his call was answered, he asked, "Niou? Have you sent your people out for Mizuki yet?"

"Kami-sama, it's only been a couple of hours!" Niou complained. "You're being a slave driver, you know?"

"Have you sent people out?" pressed Yukimura.

A sigh. "I sounded out Kamio and Ibu; they're leaving as soon as transport is available," answered the trickster. "Everything will be fine, okay? Don't get your panties in a twist."

The blunette ignored that last. "Where is Mizuki located?"

"Kannagi," replied Niou. Kannagi (甘南喜) was an island off Tengi, a popular holiday spot for city dwellers with only one or two days to enjoy themselves. It was about half an hour's skimmer ferry ride away.

Yukimura frowned. "Kannagi? Why haven't the police found him yet, then? They should have checked there first –"

"You give them more credit than they deserve," said the trickster dryly. "Apparently, it hasn't yet occurred to them that a former prostitute may just take off with his lovers to a holiday resort for some private fun."

"If that's the case, I expect Mizuki to be in the care of your shadows by tonight. That includes keeping the police off his trail as well as watching him." The blunette's tone brooked no nonsense. "Do whatever you must."

Niou's voice was appeasing. "Yes, yes. I'll tell you when they're in place. They should be able to find him by midnight."

* * *

The ferry was crowded with tourists, partygoers and other holidaymakers. Kamio Akira and his partner, Ibu Shinji, didn't find it too difficult to blend in.

"Niou-san can be so demanding," complained the redhead, somewhere amongst the constant mutter Shinji was emitting.

"… at this time of night. Really, if this mission is so important, why can't he go and do it himself? I think Niou-san is just lazy…"

Kamio's lips quirked. "Just don't ever let him know what you think."

"… and the police haven't even searched Kannagi yet. That is so inefficient of them. Of course, it does make our job easier…"

"You do realize we have to hold them off this Mizuki once we get to him, right?" reminded the other man.

The blunette finally looked at him. "Oh."

Shaking his head, Kamio elbowed his partner. "Pay attention! How you survived on your own, I have no idea… What would you do if you had to carry out a mission on your own, huh? I won't be there to help you, you know!"

Shinji blinked. "You won't… be there to help me? But you promised you'd always –"

"Shinji, this is _hypothetical_," explained the redhead with not a little exasperation. "I'm not saying that I'll just abandon you any minute now!"

Again, his best friend had that look of blankness on his face. "Oh."

Kamio sighed, turning back to face the sea. Talking to Shinji could be very trying. The redhead much preferred working in silence with him; they could understand and preempt each other with a fairly high degree of accuracy. When verbal communication came into the equation, though, the whole thing became quite chaotic.

Sea spray flecked over them, beading on their skin before dripping to the floor. Kamio's eyes caught on the drops swelling at the ends of Shinji's deep blue hair and couldn't help but smile.

When Shinji kept his mouth shut, he was beautiful.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the late update… I was away since the 10****th**** and forgot to update before leaving :-X So well, here is the next installation of this fic. Hope you liked the little bit of KamioXShinji that I added to the end ^^ as well as the YagyuuXNiou somewhere in the middle XD**

**As we all know, I'm a review bitch. It'll be awesome if you could leave a review, 'cause I really love feedback. But I'll stop nagging for them :) Hope you enjoy this!**

**Please Review!**


	6. VI Smile Maker

_**VI – Smile Maker**_

Atobe gave Jirou a weird look. "Why on earth would you want to know where the _prisons_ are?!"

Jirou shrugged, still wearing his biggest, brightest, most innocent smile. "Just… for fun!"

The young king stared for a couple more seconds, then sighed. "They're actually part of the hospital block. You know how to find Shiraishi?"

"Mmhmm," nodded Jirou. "Thanks!" With that, he ran off, leaving behind a more than slightly bewildered Atobe shaking his head over the younger boy's antics.

Shiraishi Kuranosuke was Atobe's personal doctor, and one of the best of the medical profession in Japan. Apparently he had once been a famous private practitioner, but for some reason he'd agreed to become Atobe's and the court's private doctor. Jirou wasn't quite sure how, but Shiraishi took care of everything – he was the head doctor of the palace's 'hospital', with a few assistants and nurses, and somehow managed to cope.

Finding Shiraishi wasn't very difficult. The man was either in the hospital with a patient, in the palace with a patient, or in his own rooms… without a patient. Really, it wasn't _that_ difficult. Jirou knew how to get help from the people in the palace. Servants and nobles, everyone loved him. His puppy eyes almost never failed to get him the information he wanted.

In any case, that wasn't the point in question. Jirou was looking for the prisons, not Shiraishi. Because in the prisons sat Marui-kun. And Marui-kun was in trouble. Which meant that Jirou was going to have to get him out of it – out of prison _and_ out of trouble, albeit he didn't exactly know how to.

Entering the clinic, he found Shiraishi's assistant, Senri Chitose. "Yo, Chitose-san!"

The dark-skinned man looked up, giving the visitor his typical wide grin. "Hello, Jirou-kun. Looking for Shiraishi?"

"No, but could you tell me where the prisons are?" Jirou put on his biggest, brightest, most innocent smile, hoping that the older man would not ask any questions.

Of course, that didn't happen. "… Why are you looking for the _prisons_, Jirou-kun?"

"For _fun_!" piped the boy, eyes wide and guileless. "I've never been there!"

"You shouldn't go there; you're the king's brother!" retorted Chitose. "Especially not as this time of the night!"

"But I thought… I thought, I should know about my palace, right?" Jirou now wore a pleading pout on his face.

Chitose sighed windily. "Okay, okay. They're at the back of this building."

"Thanks Chitose-san!" The orange-haired boy sped off, leaving the doctor to shake his head over the queerness of the royal family.

_At last_, thought Jirou as he stepped through the doors of the prison. The guards outside had let him in, albeit rather doubtfully, after he had repeatedly assured them that he was here on the king's orders.

The prison was… white. Very white. The floor tiles, walls, doors and lights were all pristine white. He contemplated for a second what had been hidden under the innocent whitewash – bloodstains? The remains of fistfights and shootouts? Deciding after a moment that it was rather morbid to be thinking such things, he continued down the bright white corridor.

He did his best not to look into the rooms he passed, instead only checking the names. That didn't always work, though, as he could still catch glimpses of the person beyond in the small window in the door. Jirou recognized Erika-san's husband, the guy who was stealing money from the treasuries, and Kikuchi-san's sister, who'd been caught smuggling in Europe for her African boyfriend. It wasn't very pleasant, knowing the people behind those impregnable doors and why they were there.

Finding Marui-kun's cell didn't take too long. That red-pink hair was much too distinctive to be mistaken for anyone else's. Jirou made a beeline for the door, opening his mouth to call his beloved's name, then remembered where he was. The prison's supervisors would be suspicious of anyone who appeared to know a criminal well with no known relationship, even if that someone was the king's adoptive brother.

He contemplated the situation for a few seconds, then turned towards the camera and directed a huge, cheerful and utterly innocent grin at it, throwing in a peace sign for effect. Hoping that it had worked, he looked around in search of wardens he could charm into giving him the keys.

* * *

"We'll split up here," said Saeki, his voice low but clear in the earpieces of the others. "Mukahi, Hiyoshi, I believe you have your own mission to carry out. Kirihara –"

"I will be joining you to rescue Marui," cut in the boy.

"Very well." Saeki noted that Kirihara sounded vaguely more spirited than he had before. "In that case… Itt-chan, you will come with me; Ryou, if you could accompany the other two to wherever they need to go?"

"Yes, captain."

"Everyone's got that?" At the murmur of assent, Saeki ordered, "Let's go, then."

Mukahi and Hiyoshi started off in the direction of the nearest building, with Ryou following behind noiselessly. The blue-eyed ninja, meanwhile, appraised the situation, then spoke into his communications device. "Yanagi-san, where are the prisons?"

The data master's answer was prompt. "They are located in the same building Mukahi and the others are heading for. You will need the northeastern entrance."

"Are the security systems disabled yet?"

"No. Remember, those wires I provided must be connected to the system before I can hack it."

Saeki swore under his breath. From what he could tell, they weren't going to be able to get into the building without being seen or discovered by some piece of technology. Then he frowned. Someone had just exited the prisons, but he wasn't dressed as a warden.

"That's Jirou," said Kirihara suddenly.

"Marui's boyfriend and Atobe-sama's adoptive brother," added Yanagi. "He would be a valuable asset. I am 90% sure that he would be sympathetic to our cause."

After a moment's quick thought, Saeki said, "I'll get him. He could probably get the wire in without being suspected." With that, he let out a whistle like a thrush, just loud enough to attract the boy's attention.

As he'd hoped, Jirou came over, curiosity evident on his face. He spotted them much earlier than Saeki had bargained for, though, and paused just inside the shadows. "Who –"

Before he could say any more, the ninja had tackled him to the ground, muffling the surprised cry with his hands and pulling him deeper into the darkness. "We're here to rescue Marui," he whispered.

Jirou's eyes lit up with comprehension, and he nodded eagerly. Saeki let him go. "Whisper if you must talk," he warned. The boy nodded again. "We need you to fix this wire –" He extended a hand to Kirihara, and upon receiving the said wire, passed it to Jirou. " – to any wire you can find in the prison, preferably one clearly connected to a surveillance device."

"That'll get Marui-kun out?"

"Yes."

"Okay." The boy folded the wire carefully into his hands, then stood. "Just walk in, wrap it 'round any random wire?"

Saeki decided that being specific wasn't altogether necessary. "Yes."

Another nod, then Jirou walked off towards the prison. He vanished into it almost at once. Saeki sat back and waited.

He didn't have to wait very long. Only a few minutes had passed when Yanagi spoke into their earpieces. "I'm in the system now. You can get in there. I think the boy might need some help disabling the guards."

* * *

Jirou was having a hard time suppressing his urge to rush to Marui's cell and bang on it until those strange men opened it up for him, but as insensitive as he could be, he did realize that it would be _very_ suspicious if he did that while the cameras were still in operation. Instead, he strolled back to the entrance, quite unhurried. As he walked past the guards, he threw them his brightest smile. "Thanks! I got what I was looking for!"

The man nodded and waved him off tiredly. It was almost the end of his shift and he could think of nothing but his bed and dinner and wife and… and… Everything was covered by a warm fuzzy haze, even the boy and this other guy with curly black hair with him… He probably shouldn't have taken on that drinking bet…

Then the unfortunate guard was at the other end of oblivion, accompanied by his aforementioned happy dreams and sent there by a well-placed punch to the temple by Kirihara.

"Scum," muttered the green-eyed boy, who had somehow appeared beside Jirou. "Okay, you. You ought to get out of here before anyone realizes that something fishy is up. I'm sure you're very good at looking innocent, so that won't be a problem. Now scat."

"I want to see Marui-kun," insisted Jirou.

Kirihara frowned. "Do you really want to get caught –" He paused, then sighed sharply. "Fine. Wait a moment. We'll get him out pretty soon."

Yanagi would have chuckled at the effect of Saeki's words on the boy if he hadn't been so busy navigating the server and systematically manipulating it to his ends. It took a good few minutes before he figured out the numerous complicated codes required for the various layers of security keeping the prisoners captive. "I'm releasing Marui now," he told Kirihara.

The boy made an impatient noise. "Took you long enough!" Glaring at Jirou, he demanded, "Where's his cell?"

"This way." Jirou didn't bother protesting at the rudeness, quickly leading the other to Marui's door.

Kirihara pushed at the blank white door without hesitation. It swung open noiselessly. "Marui-san?"

"I was betting that you'd be the one to come." The redhead grinned at him.

The curly-haired male snorted. "Huh."

"Please don't tell me that's Jirou." Marui was trying to peer past Kirihara when something cannoned into him. "Okay, so it is," he gasped, winded.

"_Marui-kun_!!" sobbed Jirou, his face buried in the other male's shirt. "I was so worried for you, I couldn't sleep a wink!"

The redhead blinked. "Now _that_'s something."

"He helped us get in," Kirihara informed him.

"Oh dear. You'll get in trouble, Jirou," chided Marui. "I need you right where you are. It won't help at all if you're on the run or in prison."

Somehow, the joke didn't come off very well when he was the one sitting on the unhealthily white sheets of the prison bed, but Kirihara wasn't in the mood for jokes anyway.

Suddenly, Yanagi's voice spoke in his ear. "Get out of there, Kirihara. The break-in's been discovered. Hurry."

The dark-haired boy cursed, loud enough to attract the attention of the other two. "We've been found. Come on. We need to get out, _now._"

* * *

Yukimura came over to the data master. "How are they doing?"

"Marui's leaving the palace now, with Kirihara and Saeki. There's another ninja backing them up outside," said Yanagi. "They should be fine."

"What about the others?" inquired the blunette.

Yanagi opened a different window on the screen. "They seem to be doing fine too. Might I inquire as to your reason for sending them to the palace's pleasure house?"

"Hmm… Well, you have the right to know. I want to get a good spy on Oshitari Yuushi. Jirou doesn't know him well, according to Marui, so I had to send in someone of our own. Furthermore, Fuji said that Oshitari frequents the pleasure house. It seemed the best gamble to take," explained Yukimura.

"Why would you want to spy on the king's right-hand man?" asked the data master. "What we are doing has little impact on court politics."

The blunette shrugged. "It can't hurt to have an inside eye on the royal view of our little game with the law."

Yanagi did no inquire further. His friend always had his reasons for doing things, though he did not usually make them clear to others. Yukimura would tell him when the time was right.

Returning his attention to the pair who had just entered the royal pleasure house, he spoke into the mike. "Remember, the head of the men's side is –"

"Mizuki, we know, we know," interrupted Gakuto, sounding extremely grumpy. "And since he's not around, we're supposed to look for a guy called Kajimoto, who's the vice. We know, Yanagi. No need to nag."

"Prevention is better than a cure. I prefer to ascertain that you are clear in you instructions than find out that you made a fatal mistake that was easily avoidable," retorted the brunette. "If I may refresh your memory of that incident –"

"Okay, okay, I get it! Don't start on that again!"

"Hiyoshi, I suggest you find a way to calm your partner down before meeting Kajimoto. He may not be enamored by anger blushes."

"Understood. Gakuto, shut up. You're enough of a bitch as it is."

"I'm _not_ a bitch! How dare – mmph!"

Yanagi allowed them some time to sort out their differences without interruption, keeping his eye on their iris-cams. The two intruders had infiltrated the building without much trouble (the pleasure house was always unguarded, to protect the patrons' identities) and were now moving along the empty, dimly-lit corridor. There were doors opening off both sides, with backlit nameplates declaring the name of the occupant. Some were red, some were green, probably indicating whether the person inside was occupied.

After some searching and plenty of muttered curses, the pair found the door labeled "Kajimoto Takahisa". It was green, so the data master gave them the go-ahead to knock.

Expecting a voice to invite them in, Gakuto and Hiyoshi jumped (the videos from their iris-cams jerked unexpectedly) when the door opened instead. Yanagi was unsurprised – the rooms were clearly soundproof, since his sound devices had picked up nothing from the previous red-labeled rooms.

The man who opened the door was not particularly tall, though definitely taller than the pair. The rest of his appearance was not clear due to the inadequate lighting. He stared at them for a while without recognition. "Who are you? You don't look like you're here for a vigorous night… and nor do you look like nobles."

"We're applying for a job here," answered Hiyoshi, while Gakuto gaped like a fish out of water.

The man – presumably Kajimoto – raised his eyebrows, clearly suspicious. "At this time?"

"Well, we assumed that coming during a normal brothel's working hours was the most sensible idea," explained Hiyoshi, practically reading off the script Yanagi had had him memorize not long before. "If we came during the day, most of your personnel would be asleep, right?"

"True," conceded Kajimoto. "You'd better come in."

They obeyed, entering a rather spare room. The bed was low and neatly made. A small writing desk occupied the opposite corner of the small room. The walls competed with the floor in bareness and won by a small margin. It looked unsettlingly like the room of a university student with a very limited allowance. Then again, maybe there was a kinky reason for that.

Inside, the pair sat on the bed while Kajimoto took the only chair (there was no other furniture in the room apart from the desk). He studied them. "So, why are you here?"

"Didn't I just say that we're here for a job?" Gakuto repeated grumpily.

"There are plenty of places in the city with vacancies, and a number of them are of a standard with this one," stated the brunette. "They are also a lot less troublesome to enter. Nobody just walks in here and asks for a job; Mizuki brought us all in."

Yanagi had predicted this particular phenomenon, which meant that there was a prepared response to it. Hiyoshi stirred. "Yeah. We met a guy called Mizuki. He told us to come to the palace in the capital."

"Right. So where are you from?" The taller man didn't look mollified yet.

"Okinawa. Gakuto's from Sendai." This was actually true; they'd been born in those places, but their families had moved to Shindai when they were infants. "We were sightseeing in Hokkaido when a curly-haired dude came up to us and gave us his card and told us to come and see him if we ever wanted a job in the capital."

At this, Kajimoto deflated. "That sounds like Mizuki, all right."

Suddenly, there was a flurry of knocks on the door. Frowning, he went to answer it. "This may be a guest, in which case –"

"'hisa!" exclaimed the person at the door as soon as Kajimoto opened it. "You don't have guests right now, so can we come in?"

"Kouhei. Youhei." His voice did not seem surprised. "You should go back to your room. While I do not have paying guests right now, someone might want to visit you. It would not do –"

"Oh, just shut it with the lecture," interrupted a different voice. "We're bored, and you don't have guests. That means you let us in."

Gakuto restrained a snort (Yanagi could tell from the choked noise). Kajimoto didn't seem so respected by his people.

"Wait, you _do_ have people here. I heard a snort," said the first person.

"That's right. I need to introduce them to the customs here, so I'm too busy to entertain you two," said Kajimoto firmly.

"We could always help you," pointed out the second voice. "Let us in, or we'll pester you the whole night."

The brunette caved in. "Fine. Come in."

"Knew you'd understand," they crowed, pushing past the owner of the room.

One had dark pink-maroon hair, about shoulder-length, blue-green eyes and a black leather choker around his neck. The other one had bright blue hair, long enough to be tied into a high ponytail, eyes of the same color and no choker. Both were petite, shorter than even Gakuto. But for their voices and clothes, they might have been female.

The two eyed Gakuto and Hiyoshi, then grinned. It was the grin of a cat that had spied a mouse. Gakuto tensed.

_This is truly a marvel of technology_, thought Yanagi, congratulating himself on its patent. It could read everything from what the host saw to the heart and breathing rate of its host.

Right now, Gakuto's heart and breathing rate was rising, possibly from irritation. The data master smiled to himself and left him to his own devices while he checked who these two new players in the game were.

* * *

**A/N: You know how sometimes the story just writes itself, but then you struggle to fill in the parts when it doesn't? This is one of those fill-in parts, so you may notice that it's not only shorter but doesn't flow quite as well as the previous few chapters. But it was necessary or the story would never have moved on :-X I hope this was at least mildly enjoyable, and I promise that the next chapter will have more action (in more ways than one XD).**

**Thanks to all of you who have been supporting me all the way! This fic would never have gotten this far without your constant encouragement and feedback. Please continue to read and review –hugs– and I will try to write correspondingly longer chapters ^^**

**Please Review!**


	7. VII Akai Hana

_**VII –Akai Hana (Red Flower)**_

There was a knock on the door, and Kajimoto went to answer it. Opening it, he told the person, "Sorry, I'm not free right now…"

"It's okay. I wanted to talk to you," replied the newcomer.

Kajimoto shrugged. "Okay, come in."

"Thanks." A tall man with dark blue hair to his shoulders and eyes of the same color behind frameless spectacles stepped into the room. "Good evening to both Tanakas…" He paused, noticing the presence of Gakuto and Hiyoshi. "Who are these two? Are they newbies?"

The amethyst-eyed brunette looked troubled. "Well…"

Gakuto stepped forward. "Yes, we are," he said, slightly defiantly. "We just came."

"I see. Kajimoto, would you happen to be free later tonight?" inquired the tall man, turning away from the redhead. Gakuto's eyes narrowed; he _hated_ being dismissed so easily…

Hiyoshi gripped his friend's shoulder warningly, and Gakuto subsided – for the moment.

"Well…" Kajimoto seemed ill at ease. "I'm really sorry, Oshitari-san, but with these two…"

The man – so _this_ was Oshitari – gave a crooked smile and patted the slim brunette on the shoulder. "It's fine. How about I take one of them instead?" His eyes held a wicked glint. "I can take care of one and train him up for you…"

Gakuto bristled. _Kami-sama, this guy is _so_ patronizing!_

"If they're okay with it, I don't mind," said Kajimoto slowly. "But… are you sure, Oshitari-san? They _are_ new and all."

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. Have they been assigned rooms yet?" When Kajimoto shook his head, Oshitari continued, "Could we borrow a spare, then?"

Before the brunette could reply, one of the twins spoke up. "Mizuki and Atsushi haven't been around for a while."

"Yeah, maybe you could try using Atsushi's. Mizuki can be such a prima donna," added the other twin.

Kajimoto shrugged. "There you go. Which one will you take?"

The dark blue eyes roved over them, inspecting them like livestock. Gakuto gritted his teeth. _Arrogant bastard…_

"I think the redhead might be interesting. What's your name, little one?" Oshitari addressed him, still with that half-teasing, crooked smile.

Resisting the urge to slap that smile clear across the city, Gakuto folded his arms and glared at the taller man. "Gakuto."

"Gakuto, is it? I'm Yuushi. Come along, now." He took hold of Gakuto's elbow and practically dragged him out of the room.

* * *

Atsushi's room was the mirror image of Kajimoto's, though what personal items present were of course different. It seemed to have been vacated for a few days, but it wasn't as though there was a film of dust over the floor or anything; just a general air of _absence_ that hung about it. Gakuto didn't really know how to describe it, but it was there.

"Hmm… so this is Atsushi's room, eh? I've never been here," commented Oshitari – _Yuushi_, Gakuto corrected himself mentally. "Mizuki favors him, but I've always preferred Kajimoto. Then again, it's nothing personal… the girls' side has some interesting people, too…"

Gakuto tried not to gape like an idiot. Talk like this might make him uncomfortable, but it was nothing to Yuushi. For some reason, he recalled the way his sisters talked about their favorite hairdressers and actors. Perhaps, for people like Yuushi, prostitution was just another job in the service or entertainment industry.

Suddenly he realized that Yuushi was watching him. He quickly looked up, meeting the tall man's dark blue eyes. "Something the matter?" inquired Yuushi.

"No," said Gakuto immediately. Yuushi's eyes lingered, waiting for him to answer truthfully; he knew that Gakuto was simply being prideful.

Gakuto blushed and looked away, remembering why they were here in the first place. "Well… I mean, you know I'm new and everything, so I don't exactly know what's going on. But you were the one who asked for me, so it'd be your own fault, okay?" He looked up now, eyes blazing with defiance.

Yuushi's expression was unreadable. "You're scared, aren't you?"

His already reddened cheeks flushed even darker. "No!" But for some reason he just couldn't meet those dark, dark eyes that saw through everything…

In two strides, Yuushi had crossed the room and was standing in front of him. He switched off the light and almost simultaneously pinned Gakuto to the door, lips descending to capture the smaller redhead's own.

Gakuto froze, eyes wide in surprise; everything had happened so fast. Yuushi's hands were pressing his shoulders to the door, making sure that he couldn't struggle; his own arms were sandwiched uselessly between their bodies as the blunette ravished his mouth… Yuushi stepped forward, putting a leg between Gakuto's such that his thigh pressed against the smaller man's groin, and the redhead gasped in pain and surprise.

The blunette drew away, just long enough to capture both of Gakuto's hands and pull them upwards. He pinned them against the door before bending to kiss the redhead again, his free hand undoing Gakuto's shirt buttons with uncanny swiftness, then gliding sinuously across the newly exposed skin. Gakuto writhed, arching under the sensory overload…

Yuushi very kindly broke the kiss to let Gakuto breathe, his fathomless eyes glinting down at the smaller male. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Bastard," panted Gakuto, forgetting that this person was not only a noble but also in complete control of the situation at the moment.

In reply, Yuushi suddenly flipped the redhead around so that Gakuto was now facing the door with his back to the blunette. His free hand descended to work at Gakuto's belt buckle, making the redhead gasp and struggle with renewed energy. "You –"

"Say my name," whispered the blunette, breath warming Gakuto's ear. The smaller redhead shuddered, still unwilling to give up, but Yuushi's nimble fingers had already made quick work of the belt and undone Gakuto's pants.

"…Yuushi," the smaller redhead gritted out. Gakuto knew his face was probably the same shade as his hair by now; he felt _so_ humiliated by this patronizing asshole of a nobleman…

He could _feel_ the taller man grinning behind him. "Again." This time, Yuushi bit his ear, sending sharp thrills down his spine.

Gakuto cringed, biting down hard on his lower lip. "_Yuushi_…!"

"Good." Barely had he registered the word when he found himself facing Yuushi again, though his hands were still pinned high above his head.

The blunette's eyes were like endless pools of darkness in which, if one were not careful, one would drown… Gakuto licked his lips, calling saliva to his suddenly dry mouth.

Yuushi seemed content to simply watch the flushed and breathless redhead. "By the way, have I mentioned that your hair is nice? I don't think I've ever seen quite such a shade before… Mulberry, I believe they call it."

"Shut up," muttered Gakuto. _This is just so unfair. Why am I sitting here more than half-naked with a raging hard-on while he stays so calm and composed?_

The blunette just smiled. "You're cute, you know."

Gakuto would have blushed if he could have turned any redder than he already was. "Shut up," he repeated, looking away.

Yuushi leaned down and kissed him deeply, slowly tracing intricate patterns on Gakuto's exposed torso. "I don't want to."

"You're being unfair, you asshole," the redhead panted once he got back enough breath to talk.

"So I am." The taller man's lips were curved into a smirk. "What are you going to do about it?"

Gakuto tugged, unsuccessfully, at the iron grip on his hands. "Let me go!"

"No." Yuushi's eyes glinted darkly. "Use your mouth if you really want to divest me of my clothes."

"What?!" The redhead stared up, shocked. "That's disgusting!"

Yuushi shrugged. "Then I shall continue as I am – fully clothed."

"But I –" Gakuto stopped, cut off as the blunette's lips covered his own again. He barely managed to restrain a moan as the leg on which he balanced pressed even more insistently against his arousal. When Yuushi finally pulled away, he quickly spoke up. "Fine, I'll do it!"

It was harder than it seemed to undo a button using only your mouth, unable to even anchor the cloth with your hands. The first button came through after many failed attempts; the region was soaked with Gakuto's saliva. Once he had the trick, though, he made quick work of the rest.

Yuushi let Gakuto's hands slide down the door so that the redhead could bend to reach the buttons lower at the stomach level. Gakuto, meanwhile, allowed himself a few _accidental_ licks of the blunette's skin as he worked. The tense, twitching muscles of Yuushi's torso were clear evidence of their effect, and Gakuto smiled, pleased with himself.

When all the buttons were undone, Yuushi released the redhead's hands and picked him up bodily, carrying him to the bed and tossing him there. "Now that all _that_'s out of the way…"

* * *

Yukimura chuckled behind Yanagi's head. "Renji, I never knew you were such a pervert. Couldn't you have given them some privacy?"

"Machines, no matter how advanced, cannot carry out their job if they're not switched on," said the data master by way of reply. "Oshitari might let something interesting slip while Mukahi is with him. Data is there to be collected."

The blunette shrugged. "Fine with me. Is Akaya's party safe yet?"

Yanagi flipped through several screens on his monitor. "Yes, I believe they have re-entered the forest outside the walls." He listened to his earpiece for a moment, then pressed a button. "Disperse through the different districts, all of you. You still have police on your tail," he said clearly. Releasing the button, he flipped through his many screens again. "Atsushi…" he muttered, under his breath. "Why is that familiar?"

Obviously Yanagi was very caught up in his work, and Yukimura would have to find other sources of entertainment. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed Niou's number.

* * *

"_Escaped_?!" roared Sanada. "What do you mean, escaped? Are you so incompetent that the moment I give you five hours of free rein, you let the most important human evidence of this case walk out of prison just like that?!"

"Technically speaking, he did not walk. He ran," corrected Inui. "The break-in was discovered in time for us to catch images of the perpetrators. I must insist that you return so that we can identify them."

"_That_ is what you're worried about?!" demanded Sanada, rolling out of bed and stumbling to the washroom. "Inui, if you were not so important to – no," he cut himself off, "that will not help us in any way." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Very well, Inui. By the time I arrive at the headquarters, I expect the guards in charge of Marui, as well as those responsible for the palace's security, to be suitably disciplined. _Do you understand_?"

"Yes, sir," replied the data master at once. "It shall be seen to immediately."

Sanada sighed, setting aside his cell phone to wash his face and clean up before wearily making his way back into the bedroom to dress. Opening the door, he saw that his wife was sitting up in the bed, sightless eyes turned towards him. "Dear, did something bad happen?"

It was clearly a rhetorical question, since she must have heard quite a bit of his very loud exchange with Inui, but Sanada still answered her. "Yes. I'll need to return to the headquarters straightaway."

She smiled serenely. "I see. Shall I prepare dinner for you tonight?"

No matter how often he reminded her that they employed servants for a reason, she still insisted on making his meals herself, despite the fact that she was both blind and wheelchair-bound. "No, I probably won't be coming home tonight."

"Okay." She stretched a hand towards him, and he squeezed it gently. "Do your best."

"I will." It was their standard way of saying goodbye. As soon as it was over, he hurried out of the house.

It was raining. Shaking out his umbrella, he wondered, not for the first time, why he had left Yukimura for Oshitari Yuuki.

Yes, their marriage had been arranged by their families when they were still toddlers, but few such marriages still took place in this modern age. Yuuki, the Oshitari family's firstborn, Yuushi's older sister, had been born blind, and lost the use of her legs after a terrible accident when she was ten. Apart from political connections to the Oshitaris, there was really no good reason to marry her – she couldn't even conceive or bear children. Even though she was undoubtedly a beauty, she couldn't possibly compare to Yukimura, who was at least equally as beautiful.

_Oshitari Yuuki, the angel,_ they called her. What kind of angel was blind and lame? She'd earned her title through her serene beauty, unshakable calm, constant smile, endless patience and innate kindness towards all and sundry. Yet Sanada was sure that Yukimura would have fulfilled several of those conditions as well. He'd always been the Angel, to him, to Yanagi, Niou, Yagyuu, even Marui. Yukimura was an angel – beautiful, calm, patient, kind… but the problem was that when Yukimura fell ill, he lost all of that and became a holy terror.

That made Sanada feel ashamed. It was small of him to abandon someone just because his illusions had been crushed. Hadn't he promised Yukimura so many times, to protect him, to love him even if the world turned its back to them? And then, when the time came to prove his words, he had turned tail and escaped, hiding behind the flimsy excuse of an arranged marriage.

Had he only been promising to protect that angelic façade, to love that earthbound angel that he'd thought Yukimura was? Was that it? Was that why he'd left when the façade shattered, when the angel lost his halo and grew horns? In the first place, did Yukimura actually change from angel to demon? His memory was foggy; he'd tried so often and so hard to block off those memories that now they were blurred and indistinct.

What if these were all lies he'd been telling himself over the years, to justify himself, until he now believed them to be the truth?

No, that couldn't be. The memory of Yukimura screaming and throwing things at him was real. It had to be real.

Sanada rubbed his temples with a sigh. He didn't feel remotely ready for work. All the energy he had possessed when Inui had called him seemed to have drained away.

_If it wasn't real…_

It had to. He would have to believe that it was.

_If…_

* * *

Saeki dropped noiselessly from the trees, noting that his companions still had yet to find their way back to the Fuji compound. Kirihara was taking Marui to a hideout somewhere in the city, while Itt-chan and Ryou had made their escape via alternative routes to shake off their pursuers.

The blue-eyed ninja was most worried for Ryou, who had been the last to get over the walls and who had most probably been sighted. After considering for a moment, he let the thought go. Ryou would return. He was, after all, a highly skilled master of stealth.

A nearly inaudible rustle and a soft rush of air preceded the arrival of Itt-chan, who dropped to the ground next to his captain, a shadow among shadows. He peeled off his mask. "Ryou?"

"Not yet," answered Saeki. "Go ahead; I'll wait for him." Itt-chan nodded and vanished into the night. The other ninja settled down to wait.

An hour passed, then another. Saeki sat bolt upright, making himself as uncomfortable as possible so as not to fall asleep. His worries for Ryou had returned, and he wondered whether he should slip out and look for him. If the police had him, Ryou would crush the pill they all kept in the corner of their mouths when they went on missions and commit suicide before they could interrogate him, but Saeki didn't like the thought of losing one of his closest friends.

Halfway through the third hour, when the sky was lit by the grey light of false dawn, Ryou leapt down from the trees. His eyes were frenzied; when he ripped off his mask, Saeki saw that his face was much paler than usual, almost ghostly in the dim light. "What happened?"

The younger male tossed his long dark hair impatiently. "Oh, they chased me around for a bit near the docks until I gave them the slip around the central Ring. Those grenades are useful. But that's not important," he interrupted himself, frowning more deeply than Saeki had seen in years. "Atsushi!"

"Atsushi?" repeated Saeki, confused.

"Yes, Atsushi! My twin! Don't you dare tell me you've forgotten him!" raged Ryou. "I found him!"

"Where?" asked the other ninja, eyes wide in surprise.

"In the palace brothels!"

* * *

**A/N: There! Hope this has made up for the previous chappie, though it is a bit shorter than it should've been :-X It just felt like a good point to end at... Anyways, I had a lot of fun with the Dirty Pair XD kinda got carried away there… hope you liked it! Also, we meet Sanada's (OC) wife for the first time… what do you think of her? I didn't want to use the canon girls because, well, SanadaXSakuno or SanadaXAn is just plain weird, let alone that $%$*& Tomoka. And there's more Sanada-denialism here… that somehow pops up randomly for no reason O.o**

**By the way, I'm really happy with all the alert-plus-ing and favorite-ing going on and thanks to you all for your support, but it'd be really nice if you could tell me **_**why**_** you've chosen to alert-plus or favorite this fic (or me, as an author). I mean, if you like it enough to favorite, I'd want to know what you liked so that I can work on it more. So… do feedback. I think it's only fair, and I try to carry out this policy as best as I can.**

**Please Review!**

s


	8. VIII Lady Spider

_**VIII – Lady Spider**_

"I hope Jirou's okay," worried Marui, biting his lips.

"He'll be fine," said Kirihara dismissively. "Nobody will blame him for anything; he's too close to Atobe."

"But they saw him! The evidence is really strong…" protested the redhead.

"Oh, shut up, will you? I'm trying to call Yukimura-san here!" Ignoring the other's whines, the younger male punched '2' and then speed dial. It was answered almost immediately. "Yukimura-san?"

"How are things with you, Akaya?" Oh yes, it was Yukimura's wonderfully pleasant voice. "Yanagi says you all managed to get away safely."

"Yes, we did," confirmed Kirihara. "We're hiding in the place near the square. Neat, for you to set up a hideout here."

"Oh, it was nothing, really," replied Yukimura. "It was Marui's old rental apartment. Didn't he tell you?"

The dark-haired male flashed a dirty look at Marui. If he'd known that, he wouldn't appear so silly in front of Yukimura! "No, he didn't. He's too busy worrying about that kid, Jirou."

"Leave him be, Akaya," advised the blunette. A knowing smile was clear in his voice. "It's completely natural for him to worry. Oh, Renji wants to have a word with you."

"Okay," said Kirihara reluctantly. He wanted to talk more with Yukimura, to calm his jangling nerves after his encounter with Fuji and then the break-in and the chase. But then, he couldn't let Yukimura think he was a needy child…

"Akaya?" It was the data master. "As you now know, this place is owned by Marui, and that means that it's not secure. Its probability of being searched by the police is 99 percent. You'll have to move as soon as you can. Get disguised and leave as soon as you can."

Kirihara swore, loud enough to make Marui stop moping and pay attention. "Right." Holding the phone away from his ear, he informed the redhead, "The police will check this place soon. I hope you have decent disguises in this place, because it's getting bright already."

"It's only false dawn," said Marui, glancing out of the windows.

"That's still too bright," snapped the younger male. "Do you have disguises?"

"Nope. They didn't let me keep anything," answered the redhead. "You?"

Cursing profusely, Kirihara had to admit that he didn't. "Yanagi-san?"

"The best thing you can do is leave the place undisguised and hide somewhere else," said the data master. "The closest safe house to your location is two streets down…"

* * *

"I'm _incensed_!" shouted Ryou, not bothering to keep his voice down. "My brother, my own twin brother, in a place like _that_! It must be that pimp Mizuki's doing!"

"Ryou, calm down," entreated Saeki, casting about for a way to cool his friend's fiery temper. "It may have been his fault, but why don't we try to think of this calmly and formulate an appropriate plan?"

Ryou growled, picking up a nearby rock and hurling it at the wall with all his might. It was a small stone, not even palm-sized, but there was a resounding _crack_ as it impacted on the unfortunate wall, leaving a clear indent. "That _bastard_." Then, equally suddenly, he scrubbed at his eyes. Saeki noticed the bright gleam of tears just as they were brushed away. "Why?" Now his voice was barely above a whisper.

Saeki patted the other ninja on the shoulder. "I'm not crying," declared the younger man defensively. "It's just… dust in my eyes."

"Yeah," agreed the blue-eyed ninja, not about to argue with his friend in this state. "Let's go back and clean that, why don't we?"

Consoling, cajoling, Saeki managed to steer the dark-haired man back to the Rokkaku clan's living quarters, a separate building from the Fuji family house. Inside, it was still dark, but Saeki didn't bother with the lights – both of them could see perfectly well.

The ninjas' living quarters were as different from their employers' while still keeping much of the original building's structure. The floors were all tatami mats, except for one stretch of wooden nightingale floor that was used for training. The rooms were Spartan, sparsely furnished and with little or no decorations. Everything was functional and practical. This was not just a living area, it was also somewhat like a military barracks, though there were of course sections of the house dedicated to the elderly and the youngest children. The men's rooms were the roughest, while the women's rooms often had elements of decoration like deadly fans and knife-concealing hairpins, along with elaborate kimonos and dresses as well as makeup. Disguise was also a ninja's craft.

When they reached Ryou's room, Saeki heaved his friend in and closed the door behind him. All the noise they had made would probably have roused more than a few ninja, and he didn't think Ryou would like half the clan peering at him while he cried for his brother.

Atsushi… Saeki certainly hadn't forgotten about him. He was Ryou's younger twin, and the two of them had been as identical as peas in a pod. The exact same face and the exact same hair; nobody could tell them apart until they spoke, for only their voices were different, and then only slightly. At least their skills had been different – Ryou had preferred the mastery of stealth, while Atsushi favored the martial arts. They had had to learn both, but still kept their own specialties.

Years ago – how many? Four? Five? – Atsushi had vanished. The only clue they had had was a message traced in the stone of the Rokkaku stone garden (used for training in stealth and concealment) saying, "I won't see you again. Goodbye." Nobody had had any doubt that it was Atsushi, because he could not have been kidnapped – he was a more than competent ninja and could have only been taken after a struggle, which could not have happened because nobody had heard anything the night before. They could only conclude that Atsushi had left of his own accord.

_What a horrible way to find your long-lost twin brother_, reflected Saeki as he watched Ryou. It would have been so much easier to understand if Atsushi had left to become a normal office worker, probably tired of the ninja lifestyle or of their dependence on the Fujis. But this… this was just impossible to understand. Being a ninja was definitely more respectable than being a royal prostitute. Marginally, that was. Minutely.

"How?" he asked, when his long-haired friend appeared to have calmed down sufficiently enough.

"Yanagi –" Ryou coughed, clearing his throat. "He gave me a visual feed of what Gakuto and Hiyoshi were seeing, so that I'd know if they got into trouble. They passed a door with Atsushi's name on it."

"Atsushi isn't an uncommon name," Saeki pointed out. "How could you be sure?"

"It was him," stated the other male emphatically. "I don't think there are any other Kisarazu Atsushis in this city."

Saeki could tell that his friend was not going to accept any differing opinions. "Okay. What are you going to do about him? Remember, he did choose this, or at least seemed to."

"I'll bring him back." Ryou's voice was a hoarse croak. "I'll beat some sense into him, and then I'll bring him back."

* * *

Sanada came into the office, noisily. In a less important man it would be best to say that he _barged_ into the room, but Inui didn't even look up. "Sanada. It is good that you have arrived. I am 99 percent sure that Atobe-sama's adoptive brother, Akutagawa Jirou, was involved in helping Marui Bunta escape."

Bombarded the moment he walked in. Well, he really shouldn't have expected otherwise. On his way here, he had seen several of his deputies rushing about – their department was, to say the least, in chaos. Dropping into his chair, Sanada quickly booted up his computer. "Detain him."

"You realize that Atobe-sama will not be pleased," the data master pointed out.

"Atobe-sama be damned. He's caused us enough grief already as it is," growled his superior. "Detain the boy, and interrogate him. Who else?"

There was a short pause before Inui said, "The surveillance video feeds within the prison were tampered with. According to them, Marui Bunta simply vanished from his cell."

Sanada could feel a migraine building at dangerous speed. "Aren't you the technological genius? Fix the feeds!"

"That would take me two days to do. It was done by an expert, with inside help." The data master indicated a piece of wire. To the other man, it looked perfectly nondescript – just a piece of ordinary wire. "This piece of wire was used to penetrate and infiltrate the system by –"

"I don't want to know _how_," snapped Sanada. "Who did it?'

"Akutagawa, but he would have obtained it from someone else," answered Inui. "I am 99 percent sure of that."

"Fingerprints?" demanded his superior tersely.

"None but Akutagawa's. They were not careless." Bland as his tone was, Sanada still had a sneaking suspicion that Inui was actually admiring the people behind this incident. "In fact, there is the possibility that Akutagawa accidentally touched the wire when he walked past, instead of having been the one to install it. The chance of this is 20 percent as he was seen in the prison earlier, looking for Marui Bunta."

Finally, his computer was up and running. "Any other pieces of information we could track? Voices, fingerprints in Marui's cell or cuffs, videos from the cameras in the grounds?"

"No voices or other fingerprints were detected. It is safe to assume that they wore gloves of some sort. But we do have video feeds from the other cameras that were not tampered with." Inui clicked something. "Here it is. We need you to identify them."

Sanada pushed his chair over to see the video on one of Inui's computer's screens. In the video, there were four figures, all quite far from the camera, all moving quickly into the dark trees outside the castle walls. The man immediately recognized Marui's red-pink hair and white prison uniform, and noticed that the others were all in loose dark clothes with full-face masks. One, closest to the camera, had long dark hair – probably a woman. She vanished over the wall with several police personnel in hot pursuit. "I can only identify Marui. The others are not familiar to me, though I believe that the long-haired person is a woman."

"According to those who chased that person, that is correct," agreed Inui. "They lost her near the Ring."

The other man snorted in disapproval. "I see."

"I find their costumes interesting," mused the data master. "An imitation of the medieval ninjas, but from my sensors, they must be made of a material that prevents infrared, X-ray and other types of radiant scanning. Light-absorbing, too, such that they appear to be shadows…"

"Get hold of that kind of thing for us, if you like it so much," Sanada cut in. "If those who gave chase are back, I shall have a word with them and those who were on prison guard duty."

* * *

Kamio groaned in frustration, albeit keeping his volume to barely audible. What an absolutely useless and painfully boring job this was.

It hadn't taken very much effort to find Mizuki – he was in the most expensive, most luxurious and most ostentatious hotel ever built on Kannagi. Just the thing one would expect of Atobe Keigo's former lover. And, as Niou had told them there would, he was accompanied by a rather unremarkable-looking youth, presumably Fuji Yuuta. The boy _was_ kind of cute in his own plain way, but really, it was nothing compared to Fuji Syuusuke or even Shinji when it came to that. _Un_expectedly, there was another boy, one with short black hair and a bright red headband. From the sound feeds they had been getting, this boy's name was Kisarazu Atsushi, and he was a willing member of Mizuki's little orgies.

You'd think that Mizuki would be a _bit_ less obvious if he was trying to avoid Atobe, thought Kamio grumpily. But _no_, not only this over-the-top place, but also a _suite_! At least _that_ had provided him and Shinji something to do – they'd gone in and bugged the place within hours of arriving. Now that that was over, all they could do was sit, watch and wait for orders.

"They're making out again. Really, one would think that they'd eventually get tired of it, or at least do it in a different way, but again, it's the same, it's always the same. I think it'd be very boring to be them…" Shinji's voice buzzed in his earpiece.

Kamio stifled a snort of laughter. Only the blunette could say such things in such a flawless monotone. His partner's commentary did at least liven up his mood a little.

Just then, there was a rush of static, then a different voice came through. "Hey, you two, how's Mizuki? My friend here's jumpy as a mouse on a griddle, waiting for news. How're you holding up after two days there?"

Niou, of course. "He's so predictable it's getting really boring. All he does is walk around the hotel, use some of its facilities, eat and have fun with his two boy-toys," answered the redhead at once. "You didn't mention there'd be two, Niou."

"Oh, there are two?" Niou sounded amused. "Of course – why have one toy when you can have two? But don't bother with the other boy. We're here for Yuuta and Mizuki only."

"How long do we need to stay here?" inquired Shinji. "If we had a better idea of the timeframe of this operation, we could settle ourselves more appropriately." Currently, the pair had booked into a room in the same hotel, just a few floors directly below Mizuki's suite.

"Oh, a day or so more; I think you'll have to haul Mizuki back in a couple of days at most," answered Niou languidly. 'Don't disturb his time with Yuuta-chan. He'll suffer the same amount when Fuji Syuusuke gets his hands on that slippery purple pimp. And have some fun yourselves. Heaven knows you need it, or you'll go insane from the boredom."

As the line disconnected, Shinji mumbled, "He's got a point there. Are you coming back anytime soon?"

Kamio pulled off his earpiece and stared at it, shocked.

* * *

The phone rang, and Yukimura, naturally, picked it up, after a quick look at the caller ID. "Why, hello, Fuji! How may I help you?" Yukimura was in a good mood, a _very_ good mood, and felt that he could be nice even towards the tricky Akasagi at this point.

"Oh, _you_'re very happy today," observed the Akasagi. "Would it have anything to do with the fact that Sanada has no leads even after two days' worth of investigations?"

"Perhaps," replied the blunette, with a smile that he knew the other could not see. "So, what would I owe this call to?"

"Well, I thought you'd like to be notified that I was going to start on the main plan itself," said Fuji casually.

Yukimura's expansive mood vanished at once. "Yes, indeed. It needs to be done fast. Are you sure this would be a good time, though? The security at court is probably twice what it was right now."

"You said you want this done as soon as possible, didn't you? The sooner I start, the sooner things will happen. Of course, if you prefer me to delay, I have no objections whatsoever. After all, I can enter the palace any time I want - I have plenty of _useful_ contacts there." Fuji's voice was light and bland, almost irritatingly so to Yukimura.

The blunette frowned, but kept his tone polite. "Please, go ahead. I leave the matter in your capable hands."

"Thank you very much. I feel so appreciated," commented the Akasagi, equally polite but with the smallest elusive hint of sarcasm. "Naturally, I assume you are upholding your end of the bargain."

"Of course. Mizuki is already under my agents' surveillance," said Yukimura. "The faster you get the job done, the faster I will procure Mizuki for you – I am certain you understand."

"As I am. Well, I will be out of sight for a while – do not contact me. I will get in touch with you should it be necessary." His tone made it clear that he strongly believed it would not be necessary. "Until the next time, Yukimura."

With a click, the call ended. Yukimura gripped the device until his knuckles turned white before forcing himself to relinquish it. Fuji was _integral_…

* * *

_Click._

[Impressive.]

{Why, thank you. That you captured Marui in the first place was a point for you, actually.}

[We will step up our efforts. The game has barely begun – this was only the prelude.]

{Indeed it hasn't. However, I am confident of victory. Yukimura is a brilliant strategist, much better than Sanada.}

[Accepting defeat is not my way.]

{I am certain of the outcome. Sanada cannot hope to beat Yukimura.}

[There is still a possibility. Sanada can be guided.]

{Do your best. If you did not, it would not be interesting.}

[Certainly. Does anyone suspect?]

{Not yet. I have been careful.}

[Good. If this is discovered before the game's end, we will never be satisfied.]

{Well said. This is, after all, the ultimate competition.}

[I will continue to do my best to even the odds.]

{I am amused to note that matters are so interesting even so early in the game. It would be good to keep it that way.}

[Do your part, and it will stay that way. This is, after all, for the purpose of entertainment.]

_Click. Buzzzz…_

Leaves hurtled through the town square, borne by a howling wind that rattled the windows closed against the night chill.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! It's tough, keeping up like this… sorry, the chapters will probably hover around this length from now on T.T I'm really trying to extend them, but the best place to end always seems around there. Hope you enjoy them, regardless. If you'd prefer longer chapters and longer delays between chapters (a fortnight to a month) instead of weekly/fortnightly, shorter chapters, do let me know :)**

**As to the chapter itself – I particularly enjoyed writing about the Rhythm Pair back there. Did you get what Shinji was talking about? I really hope you did XD Also, the part about the Kisarazu twins. I had that lurking around my head for a while, so I added it in – not sure if it's good, though. What do you think? Am I trying to do too much? :-X**

**Wouldn't you like to know what Fuji's going to do in Atobe's court? ^^ And take a guess at the characters at the end! I'm sure it's easy to guess ;D**

**Please Review! Feedback is greatly appreciated!**

_**P.S. if anyone feels like reading crack, please go and check out my multichapter How To Irritate Your Superiors. We're holding a competition, and those who win get to submit ideas of how to torture their favorite buchou/fukubuchou/coach! Do try it out!**_


	9. IX Hajimete no Asa

_**IX –Hajimete no Asa (The Morning it Began)**_

Kisarazu Atsushi was born and raised a ninja, and even if he _had_ had a teenage identity crisis and changed careers, he could still recognize that feeling of being watched. It was not the feeling of eyes burning into you with lust that he had become more accustomed to recently; it was the feeling of eyes that watched, impassive and judgmental, eyes that saw everything but said nothing – mechanical eyes, better known as spy cameras with fisheye lenses.

He hadn't felt them when they'd first installed themselves in this most ostentatious room of this most ostentatious hotel, but now he felt them _everywhere_ and couldn't escape them no matter where he went in the gargantuan suite of rooms. Mizuki and Yuuta had both been unhelpful when he mentioned his unease to them, brushing it off as "nerves" and "hallucinations" – even in the full knowledge that he was a trained ninja.

"Mizuki-san," he repeated, for what felt like the _nth_ time, "I am positive that this is real. There are so many reasons why people would want to spy on us!" Of course, the _us_ in this statement referred to Mizuki in particular.

"Mm…" The curly-haired male didn't even glance up, instead keeping his eyes on the writhing Yuuta beneath him. "It doesn't matter, Atsushi-kun. It's probably the hotel security. Really, if you were going to be so uptight, I wouldn't have brought you along. Unless you can find these spy devices, I suggest you join us." Moving a hand, he made the already flushed and panting Yuuta moan deep in his throat, and Mizuki smiled, well pleased.

Atsushi sighed and gave up. Nothing was going to distract Mizuki at this stage. The only course of action left to him was to join in and pretend that spy cameras hadn't been invented yet.

* * *

The door slid open, and Tezuka glanced up, easily masking his curiosity with his trusty stony expression. Neither Syuusuke nor the man with black-and-white hair had been to see him for a few days already, and he'd been getting a little apprehensive.

Now, both of them were entering the room, Syuusuke in his customary kimono, the other man in a nondescript T-shirt and jeans. Syuusuke was, as usual, wearing that enigmatic smile of his. "Tezuka-kun."

Tezuka mentally noted the change from _-san_ to _–kun_, a slightly less formal honorific. He watched the pair, impassive.

The petite male bent down to place his face level with the seated Tezuka's, still smiling. "You should reply when someone talks to you, Tezuka-kun. Ne?"

"You merely made a statement, so I was not obliged to respond," answered the stoic man.

"Very true. Tezuka-kun, I will be leaving the house for a while," said Syuusuke, tilting his head slightly. "I know you will lament my absence, but please don't try to leave and look for me. It would be very bad for your health."

"Are you threatening me?" inquired Tezuka, voice as bland and polite as the other brunette's."

"Saa… perhaps," replied the smaller male. "I am quite worried for your health, since you seem so likely to put it in danger. While I am absent, Saeki here –" he gestured at the aquamarine-eyed man behind him "-- will accompany you. He will be _very_ unhappy if you desert him."

Tezuka eyed the casually-dressed man, remembering how easily this person had incapacitated him. "I see."

"I've been thinking of letting you play a bit more," continued the other brunette, "but that does seem a bit dangerous, you being a trained policeman and all." Somehow, he made the job sound like an insult. "This is valuable property, you understand, and I would hate to come back to find it in a shambles. Oh, and if people come calling, don't worry at all. Saeki can take care of them. All you need to do is enjoy yourself in this room."

_So I am as caged as ever_. "I dislike the loss of my freedom."

"Oh, do you? I mourn the loss of mine as well. We have much in common," remarked Syuusuke. "In fact, I would have taken you along on my excursion, but as worried as I am for your safety –" Tezuka's eyebrow twitched "—I decided it was best for you to stay here. After all, you might meet some of your old policeman friends and run away, and _then_ where would I be?"

Tezuka decided not to dignify that with an answer, instead staring stonily at the smiling face hovering in front of him.

Finally, Syuusuke straightened, turning away from him to head for the door. "I've taken a liking to you, Tezuka-kun. When I return, I'll show you how much you can benefit when you are liked by me. Until then, try to make yourself at home." He walked out of the room, Saeki behind him.

Just as the door was closing, Tezuka fancied he saw a flicker of bright cerulean blue.

* * *

Yukimura sat back with a sigh. From now on, it was hands off. Fuji did not appreciate interference, and this was a very delicate matter.

Not for the first time, the blunette wondered why he was putting so much trust in the Akasagi. The plan he had come up with on the day of Marui's capture hinged on Fuji's skills as an Akasagi, and there was nothing Yukimura himself could do to affect the outcome. It was, to say the least, frustrating.

Annoyed, Yukimura toyed with his cell phone, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the walls of the building. Just as he was about to call Niou again to demand updates on Mizuki, Yanagi spoke. "Kirihara and Marui are here."

"Are they being followed?" he inquired.

The data master fiddled with something on his computer. "No."

"Good. Let them in." Yukimura stood up, heading to meet his guests. As he entered the front room, the aforementioned pair slipped in through the door. "Hello, Akaya, Marui," he said, smiling. "Make yourselves comfortable. You might as well stay here as anywhere else."

"Here's better, what with all the security Yanagi has on this place," commented Marui, collapsing with a sigh onto a sofa. "You know, I think our identity was verified twenty times in the ten steps to your door from the gate."

"That's good – it means we're as safe as we can be," answered Yukimura placidly. "Do sit down, Akaya. You look like death walking."

Although he made it sound like a joke, the blunette was actually being quite serious. The youngest of the group was as pale as a sheet, and his green eyes blazed with what looked like fever. He also seemed to be having trouble focusing his eyes. "I'm fine," he said, rather tersely, but he sat down after Yukimura gave him a meaningful look.

"So, what's happening?" asked Marui, helping himself to the bowl of sweets Yukimura had thoughtfully brought along. "I feel really weird, not knowing. And it's strange to be closeted up like this, too, with nobody coming to visit."

"I'm sure you have other ways to communicate with your agents," replied the blunette easily.

"True," conceded the redhead. "Awesome, bubblegum!"

Kirihara snorted. "Idiot," he mumbled.

"You really don't look too good, Akaya," said Yukimura, genuinely concerned. "Are you sick?"

"No!" The younger male made an effort to sit up straight in his seat, and failed. "I'm just tired, 's all," he muttered."

"Rest, then. Take any of the rooms." The house they were currently in was one of Yukimura's alternative addresses, a spacious villa-style bungalow on Kannagi, out of the city proper. They had moved here a day after helping Marui escape, since the police had yet to search Kannagi (Mizuki's presence was a testimony of that). With its size, it was also more than adequate to putting up a few guests.

Kirihara's head dropped onto his chest, a final gesture of surrender, and he heaved himself off the couch. Standing there wavering for a second, he glanced at Yukimura. "Where?"

The blunette sighed. "Marui, help him down that corridor and into the third room off the left." As the redhead hoisted one of Kirihara's arms over his shoulders and supported him, Yukimura gave the sick boy a stern look. "Remember, Akaya, rest or you won't be having any more missions in the near future."

"But – but what about Sanada? I want to do something to help!" protested Kirihara, struggling weakly.

Yukimura blinked. Something had just occurred to him, as sudden as if a flash of lightning had lit it up for him. A smile spread across his features – a smile reminiscent of wolves with the scent of prey strong in their noses. "Don't worry. I've got _just_ the perfect mission for you. It isn't urgent, so I'll tell you about it when you get well."

"Does it involve blood?" asked the younger male, fever-bright eyes wide in his eagerness.

"In a way. Actually, I believe it involves fire, plenty of it," mused the blunette. "So rest, _now_, or you won't be in any shape to help me carry it out. Off you go." Giving Marui a little push, he sent the two stumbling down the corridor.

As Yukimura turned back to the room where Yanagi waited, his smile widened just a little as he considered the finer details of his plan. _Nice to have an adversary who's not only blind but lame as well…_

* * *

"You have no right to lay your filthy paws on him," admonished Atobe at his most haughty. "He would have had no part in this incident."

"We have proof that Akutagawa Jirou was at the prisons shortly before the estimated time of the break-in," replied Sanada stonily. "Please allow us to question him."

"Arn? Are you suggesting that Ore-sama's_ brother_ has had anything to do with jailbirds and criminals?" demanded the silver-haired diva. "As if Ore-sama would let his kin be manhandled by bumbling fools like you!"

Sanada gripped his temper, fiercely. It would do him no good in the long term to blow up at the king, no matter how good he might feel for it immediately after. "Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but we believe that he will be of great help. We could progress much faster with even the smallest bits of information."

"Hmph. Jirou?" Atobe addressed the subject of the very heated debate, who had thus far been seated quietly behind his defender. "Do you want to talk to this man? If not, Ore-sama will _ask_ him to leave."

Jirou bit his lip, considering. _I promised I wouldn't say a word…_ "I don't feel like talking," he pouted in the most adorable manner he could muster.

Atobe, of course, bought it immediately. "There, you see? He doesn't' want to talk, and if he doesn't want to talk, then he won't. Come back when he's in a more talkative mood and Ore-sama might let you exchange words with him," declared the king. "Now, be off with you. Have you not yet found my Mizuki?"

"No, we have not," admitted Sanada impassively. _Calm, calm, calm…_

"How very inefficient. He can't have gone far, and knowing him, he wouldn't put very much effort in hiding," commented Atobe with a dismissive shrug. "Put a little more effort into things, and maybe you'll actually get something done."

That was it. That was _it_. Sanada wasn't going to stand for this, no he wasn't. He glared openly up at the king. "I would –'

"Yes, yes, we'll see you some other time," said the silver-haired diva, flicking his fingers at the other man in what seemed to be a farewell. "Come on, Jirou. I need a round of tennis."

Sanada knelt there, thinking that he had been well and truly put down by an extremely arrogant bastard.

* * *

"Thanks, Atobe," chirped Jirou, smiling brightly at the older male.

"No problem. Never liked that Sanada guy, anyway," grunted the silver-haired diva. "Stony and disapproving all the time. You'd think he'd have more of a life after marrying into the nobility. I personally wonder how Yuushi can stand having such a rock for a brother-in-law…" Atobe rambled on, not noticing nor caring that Jirou wasn't really paying attention.

The younger male continued smiling, happy in the knowledge that Atobe would look after him in everything he did. It was a feeling that, even after the years since they had first met, was still as warm as it was at the very beginning.

(Flashback)

"Useless kid! How dare you get my clothes dirty again?!"

"I'm sorry; I'm sorry!" The young boy cowered against the wall, terror-filled eyes fixed on the man advancing on him.

"Sorry? I'll teach you sorry!" _Oh no, he's using the belt! Please no, not the belt, not the belt, not the belt –_ The wide strip of leather descended, its heavy metal buckle smashing against unyielding bone, its clasp shredding the thin cloth. Jirou screamed in pain, tears making tracks on his grimy cheeks.

"Please, Uncle, I'll be good! I'll never do it again!" pleaded the eight-year-old. "Please!"

"Shut up!" The belt flicked back, hovering ominously. "Don't speak unless you're spoken to!"

"The stupid kid did something again?" The voice was female – but instead of being soft and sympathetic, it was cold and cruel.

"He ruined my working shirt!" spat the man. "Now I have to go and change _and_ I'll be late for work!"

"He's more trouble than he's worth," agreed the woman. "I don't understand why you still keep him."

The man shot a venomous glance at the cowering child before lowering his hand and turning away. "The government's still giving out child benefits. We can get rid of him when he's twelve and the benefits stop." He stormed out of the room, the woman following him up the stairs.

Jirou slowly uncurled from the fetal position he had assumed during the earlier beating. _That wasn't so bad. He only hit me once. Maybe I should thank Aunt for distracting him._ At the thought of thanking his cruel aunt, who often took part in the beatings herself, he felt the beginnings of hysterical laughter bubble up in him and quickly choked it down. If the couple came down to find him laughing, he might just get another beating – a more thorough one, since the first clearly hadn't taught him a lesson.

~x~o~x~

His uncle pointed at the door with his cigarette. "Go on. Out. Now. I never want to see you again."

Jirou stood in the middle of the living room, wavering. He knew that this had been coming for a long time – today was his twelfth birthday, and his relatives wouldn't get anymore financial benefits for looking after him (if it could even be called 'looking after'). That didn't help him very much.

The knowledge that he had to leave did not solve the many problems he was now faced with. He was still a minor, had neither skills nor education (they had neglected to send him to school to save on school fees) and owned nothing, not even the clothes on his back (his aunt had reminded him of that a thousand times over). Furthermore, he had never set foot out of the house – the one time he had been daring enough to take a run in the garden, he had earned himself a severe beating that left him mottled in purple-black bruises like a diseased person. In no way was he equipped to face the outside world.

He bit his lip. "Um… goodbye," he muttered uncertainly. The alcohol-veined, beer-bellied, cigarette-puffing man who was his uncle flapped a dismissive hand at him. From the other seat, his string-thin, lemon-faced aunt stared at him as though he were dirt on her best shoes. Nothing unfamiliar there. Jirou turned and, empty handed, walked out of the building he had lived in for as long as he could remember.

His parents had died when he was five. Apparently, they had had an accident with loose wires and the electricity had fried their brains on the spot. How true it was he had no clue, the sources being his aunt and uncle. His only living relative had been his uncle, who was his father's cousin, and his uncle's wife. They had very grudgingly taken him in, and since then, he'd suffered at their hands for seven years – more than half of his short life.

Through those five years, he had developed a method of coping with the abuse – if he couldn't physically escape, then he would do so mentally. Instead of going out, he went in. He fled to a distant corner of his mind and shut down his consciousness. More often than not, he fell asleep. After a while, it became his habit to go about his days in hazy sleepiness, never fully there, not suffering quite as much. That had, of course, earned him more beatings, but he managed pretty well.

Sleep became a method of coping with stress in all forms. Right now, newly made homeless, outdoors for the first time in seven years and assaulted from all sides by unfamiliar sights, sounds and smells, he felt very stressed indeed, and decided that the best thing to do would be to sleep. But first, he would have to find a nice place to sleep, because it wouldn't be a good idea to sleep in front of his uncle's door.

After walking a short way down the street, he found himself in a huge open space paved in stone and surrounded by graceful buildings. Looking around, something caught his eye. That pretty water feature looked very nice, and it was right in the middle of the big square. Jirou smiled. It was as good a place as any other to sleep.

~x~o~x~

"Are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice. Jirou instinctively shrank away from it, raising an arm to protect himself in case of a beating. "Oh good, you're awake," continued the voice. "Come on, sit up."

Slowly, unsure of himself, Jirou shifted until he was sitting in a more upright position. Stealing a peek at the person who was talking to him over his arm, his eyes widened. Nobody he knew (then again, he knew very few people) had silver hair or eyes! "I'm sorry," he blurted, the all-too-familiar phrase coming immediately from his lips.

"Why?" The person frowned slightly, and Jirou immediately hid his eyes again – a frown usually meant that pain was going to follow. "You didn't do anything to apologize for, apart from sleeping in a public place." When the boy did not answer, the silver-haired person continued, "That isn't exactly a good thing. Why _are_ you sleeping in the middle of the town square? At this kind of time, you should be at home." Pointing westwards, he indicated the setting sun that was burning the sky red and purple.

"I can't," whispered Jirou, scared. _Not a good thing? He's going to punish me?_

"Why not? Wait, let's not talk here. It'll be much more comfortable for both of us in the car," said the person. "Come along."

When Jirou chanced a look, he saw the silver-haired person standing a few steps away, waiting for him. "C-coming!"

~x~o~x~

The silver-haired person – _Atobe_, Jirou corrected himself quickly – stood staunchly in front of his parents. "I'm adopting him, and that's that. He's got nowhere else to go – I'm not going to let him go back to that aunt and uncle who beat him for fun, and if he's to be sent to an orphanage, then I'll just adopt him from there."

Jirou was still in shock. He'd followed the silver-haired person into the car, which seemed almost as large as his own room and a million times more luxurious. The silver-haired person had then introduced himself as Atobe Keigo, heir to throne of Japan.

That alone would have been enough to keep him tongue-tied for hours, but Atobe had then insisted on hearing Jirou's story and how he came to be sleeping at the fountain – the Fountain of Victory, as it was apparently called. And now, barely two hours after they had met, Atobe was telling his parents that he was going to adopt Jirou as a brother.

Amidst all this goings-on, Jirou was surprised at how very awake he was. Sleepiness at all times had resulted in a dulling of his senses, something that had been a saving grace when it came to beatings. Now, though, he felt as though he was seeing, smelling, hearing everything twice as clearly.

He had absolutely no idea why Atobe had decided to take an interest in him. For the past seven years, he had been told constantly of how useless, how worthless, how stupid and irritating and troublesome he was – he couldn't fathom why someone would want to have anything to do with him.

Now this amazing fate had befallen him. Hoping against hope, he wished with all his heart that Atobe would be able to do as he said – take him in and care for him 'like a human being'.

The white-haired man on the big gold chair sighed. "Do as you please, as long as you take care of the paperwork."

"Care for him properly, Keigo. He is not a toy," cautioned the magnificent woman sitting beside the man. She looked like an older, female version of Atobe – dark silver hair and dark silver eyes. "He is a human being, just like you are. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, mother," answered Atobe promptly. "I will." Turning to Jirou, he grinned, and it was as though the sun had come out for the younger boy. "Welcome to my family, Jirou."

Twelve-year-old Jirou had never believed in angels. Now, though, he believed in angels, and was sure that they all had silver hair and eyes as well as sleek black cars, albeit no wings that he could see.

(End Flashback)

Atobe was his angel, and Jirou could always count on that. Even Marui-kun had to take second place to Atobe.

* * *

**A/N: Sanada got dissed, yet again… XD poor Akaya is sick! And Fuji is being a very very lovable bitch! And Yukimura's got a plan, a very evil sadistic plan! Wooohts!**

… **sorry, kinda high there. Inspiration is flowing, and I wrote this thing in two parts in two days. What do you think of Jirou's past? Should I have elaborated more? I didn't go into as much detail as I did with Fuji and Kirihara earlier on because Jirou's really not as important as them, plot-wise (though he is still more important than most of Seigaku XD). If you think I should have written more, I don't mind rewriting this a little, but of course you'll have to wait longer for the next chapter ^^**

**Sorry if this was rather filler-ish. I really do mean to get on with the story… just keep getting sidetracked by random plot bunnies :-X**

**Please Review! Feedback is greatly appreciated; I really want to improve!**


	10. X KimiBokuLOVE

_**X – Kimi+Boku=LOVE? (You+Me=Love?)**_

The wide halls and rich furnishings of the palace were to Ryoma so commonplace that he never noticed them anymore. There had been a time when he'd eyed the overwhelming grandeur with wide eyes under his customary cap, but they lost their majesty within weeks. Where to most people the luxury screamed _wealth_, to Ryoma they screamed _Atobe_ – he was in everything in this palace.

It was hard to get away from him, vast as the building was, because everything he saw seemed to have the diva's name printed on it in capital letters.

Of course, it wasn't often that Ryoma was in a mood to avoid the older man, but he _was_ (though he'd never admit it out loud) rather possessive of that King of Monkeys, beauty spot and all. Atobe's current preoccupation with Jirou and, more importantly, Mizuki, did not sit well with the golden-eyed boy.

And that was why Ryoma was presently wandering the corridors of the palace in a filthy mood. He was walking without an end goal in mind, scowling at the gleaming tiles underfoot and counting on the black cloud over his head to warn away anyone in his path.

He rounded a corner, and walked headlong into another person. That person was wearing a pale blue silky garment, and smelled of mint.

Literally knocked out of his black reverie as he landed unceremoniously on the polished floor, he looked up to see who it was he had bumped into. He frowned; the person was somehow familiar and yet he couldn't quite place him… but Ryoma knew for sure that it was a male, though he took androgynous to a whole new level. The knee-length crane-patterned kimono did not help at all.

The person extended a hand to help him up. "I'm sorry. I should have been more careful." His voice was soft, just like his pale, flyaway blonde hair. Even though he was smiling slightly, he still managed to appear sincerely worried.

"Hmph." Sliding back into his bad mood, Ryoma grabbed the hand roughly and pulled himself to his feet. Then, feeling a little bad – this person had nothing to do with his bad mood, after all – he muttered, "Thanks."

"Saa, it's no problem," replied the blonde. "I'm Ayase, by the way. Izumi Ayase."

"Echizen Ryoma." The other male searched his memory for the name Ayase and came up with nothing. Yet there was something about that smile…

"Nice to meet you, Echizen-kun." Ayase's smile grew more relaxed.

"I've never seen you here before," said Ryoma bluntly.

"Oh, I only arrived today," explained the blonde. "Kajimoto-san said that I was free to look around during the day, so I took the opportunity to familiarize myself with my new surroundings. This is all so grand, isn't it?" His wave indicated the opulent gold-plated window frames and the swath of manicured gardens that could be seen outside.

_Kajimoto? New member of the harem, I guess._ Tugging on his cap, he shrugged. "You get used to it, after a while."

"You don't seem very happy," observed Ayase. "Is something the matter?"

"No," retorted Ryoma at once. Like he was going to tell a virtual stranger anything! "What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"You're not smiling," pointed out the other. "But you look like you should smile."

"Why should I?" demanded the golden-eyed male. "Give me a good reason."

Ayase's smile grew wider – a smile that invited one to smile back. "Smile for me, Echizen-kun."

A whisper of silk, a flash of the brightest cerulean.

Ryoma blinked and looked around. He was alone.

* * *

Fuji smiled to himself. _That wasn't too difficult…_

'Izumi Ayase' was one of Fuji's well-used personas, one that was reserved for nobles and the court.

He had actually considered using something different this time, but in the end had settled on Ayase again. For one thing, he wasn't completely sure that Ryoma didn't remember him – Fuji had left the harem a short time after his arrival. And for another, anyone at court would only recognize him as Ayase; he could easily trash that persona. After all, it only took some hair dye to change his hair to blonde.

Ryoma was clearly upset with something, probably Atobe. So much the better. It would be much easier to hook him now. Perhaps he should contact Yukimura and tell him… no, better not to expect too much. He still didn't know the younger boy well enough.

Still plotting, Fuji headed the pleasure house. He had yet to negotiate for rooms.

* * *

"I _refuse_ to be made a fool of," growled Sanada, banging a fist onto his desk hard enough to make the stationery topple. "Atobe's prima donna act is holding up our investigations!"

"Even if you question Akutagawa, I am 80 percent sure that you will not obtain the information you want," remarked Inui. "The people who carried out the break-in were in all-black suits that covered their faces. Also, they are 100 percent outsiders – I have checked all the security in the palace, and all was as it should have been."

Sanada glared at the data master. "What other suggestions do you have?"

"I believe we should focus on the former issue of locating the Kurosagi," replied Inui. "After all, I am 95 percent sure that the rescue of Marui, and hence the prison break, were carried out by the Kurosagi's organization. Thus, by finding the Kurosagi, we will solve the root of the problem."

Sighing, Sanada buried his face in his hands. "Sorry, Inui. I'm tired, that's all. I should have thought of that sooner."

"We can restart out investigations into the Kurosagi case," said the data master. "In fact, I believe that it is closely related to the disappearance of Mizuki, which will solve _that_ other case."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" demanded the other man. "Start gathering the information again!"

* * *

Happily, Kirihara's fever wasn't as serious as it had seemed to be. Within two days, the green-eyed boy was wolfing down his food with gusto, as if to make up for lost time. Yukimura watched with a slight smile on his face as the younger male tucked into his first real meal since he'd arrived at the house.

"Ne, Yukimura-san, you said you had a mission for me," reminded Kirihara, gulping some water as he pushed his spotlessly clean plate away.

"Ah yes, about that." The blunette nodded. "Well, you recovered a lot faster than I expected, so you'll have to wait for my go-ahead before you carry out the task. Do you know where Sanada lives when he is not on duty?"

"No, but Yanagi-san would," replied the dark-haired boy. Raising his voice, he called, "Yanagi san! Where does Sanada live?"

"When he is on duty, he usually bunks in the police headquarters," answered the data master, coming to the door connecting the living room with his own study. "When he is not, he lives in a medium-sized bungalow near the Oshitari mansion."

"Thank you, Renji," smiled Yukimura. "So, I assume that Oshitari Yuuki stays there?"

"Yes," confirmed Yanagi. "Naturally, as she is his wife. According to data collected from Marui's networks, she insists on cooking his meals herself rather than leaving it to the kitchen help."

The blunette smiled brilliantly. "Oh, how wonderful. Akaya, this makes your job _much_ easier."

"What _is_ my job, anyway? You haven't told me yet," complained Kirihara.

"You see, I've been thinking of a way to get rid of that woman for a while," said Yukimura conversationally. "But it's difficult to do so, since she rarely leaves the house, and Sanada normally has such tight security on her. After all, it must look like an accident, or things will get rather troublesome. Recently I had an idea of how to make sure she dies a painful death _and_ make it look like an accident at the same time."

"Oh? What is it?" The green-eyed boy leaned forward eagerly.

"It's really very simple. Fire will do the trick," smiled the blunette. "Fire, and a little extra something when she's cooking."

* * *

"Ne, Mizuki-san, shouldn't we be going home sometime soon?" asked Yuuta tentatively.

"Hmm? I thought you didn't want to go back to that place where your brother terrorizes you and you feel so undervalued," said Mizuki, twirling a lock of hair around a finger and watching the brunette over his cup of coffee. "Besides, you've clearly been enjoying yourself here."

"I-it's not that!" protested Yuuta. "I _am_ enjoying myself, and I _don't_ want to go back… it's just, I know Aniki, and he's got a really evil streak. If he finds out it was you who got me out of the house, he'll be mad as hell, and you really don't want to know what he'll do to you. I don't want you to be hurt on my account!"

"How very noble," purred the curly-haired male. "So chivalrous. I like that. Don't worry about me, Yuuta-kun. I can take care of myself, and I'm sure your brother can be brought to see reason."

Yuuta shook his head emphatically. "No, he can't. He isn't a reasonable person. I don't get him at all. But I _do_ know that he's capable of hurting people in very… inventive ways. The angrier he is, the more inventive. I don't want to know what he come up with for you. He seems to get angry very easily when it comes to me, but I really don't know why."

"If you explain it in the correct terms, he will understand, I'm sure," said Mizuki dismissively.

"But –" The brunette let out a sigh of exasperation. "Mizuki-san, I really think he knows already. I mean, Kisarazu-kun was also talking about the spy devices…"

Mizuki chuckled. "Oh, Yuuta-kun… I thought you knew by now. Atsushi-kun is prone to some… kinkiness. Think about it. Immediately after talking about the camera, he joined us in activities that normal people would do their best to avoid when being observed via camera. I'm 80 percent sure that he did it to heighten the atmosphere. After all, he has yet to find a camera as proof."

"That's true," conceded the younger male. "But I do get a feeling of being watched. It's weird, and I think we should change rooms or something. Maybe a pervert is spying on us through the window…"

"Oh, that must mean he got an eyeful, since we have done several very interesting things against the window," remarked Mizuki, with a sudden gleam in his dark eyes.

"M-Mizuki-san!" Yuuta's face was becoming rather rosy. "Don't say things like that!"

"But it's the truth, Yuuta-kun," the curly-haired male pointed out. "Isn't it, Atsushi?"

"What?" Atsushi, having just entered the room, blinked at the older male in question.

"We've done a lot of things that most people wouldn't do against our windows, haven't we? Yuuta's embarrassed about it now, but at that time, do you remember him shouting –"

"Enough! I remember!" interrupted Yuuta, his face now as red as a tomato and hot as a stove. "You don't need to say it that way!"

"Instead of talking, why don't we have some action?" Mizuki set down his coffee and gestured at the window with a suggestive glance at his companions.

"B-but what if there really _is_ someone spying on us through the window?! I can't –" began the brunette.

"It's all in the mind, Yuuta-kun," said Mizuki reassuringly. "You look gorgeous when you're all hot, hard and flustered. I'm sure any spy would think so too. Now, Atsushi, where did we put the lube?"

"_Mizuki-san_!"

* * *

In the suite below, Shinji grinned. "Ne, Kamio, apparently it's very fun to do it against the window…"

Kamio's eyes bulged. "No way. _No way._ You can't make me! You can't!"

* * *

It was just after dinner, and Ryoma was decidedly put out. Firstly, the new maid had forgotten to bring him _both_ his Ponta _and_ his milk, and he had had to spend the whole meal drinking milk. That was more than enough to put anyone in a bad mood, but apart from that, the other reason was that he had eaten his dinner _alone_. In other words, without Atobe.

The king was off attending some big dinner with his friends in the business world and several ambassadors from various countries, and before that had spent a good few hours in Jirou's company. Although he'd never had admitted it out loud, Ryoma was more than a little jealous of the 'adopted brother', which contributed to his being irrationally pissed off by Atobe's attendance of the corporate dinner.

It all culminated with Ryoma as irritated as a cat that had just got its tail pulled. Even Karupin was avoiding him.

To get back at the Monkey King, he decided to go and spend the night in his old quarters – the pleasure house rooms. Huh. The stupid diva could have all the important business meetings or talks with the ambassadors he wanted if he spent the night alone. It was a long-standing arrangement, anyways. Whenever Ryoma felt that Atobe had slighted him in any way, he vanished off to his former rooms and sulked until the king came to him begging for him to come back.

Thus, he was understandably surprised when he opened the door of his old room – which had until now been left empty – and discovered that it had a new occupant.

"Hello, Ryoma-kun," greeted Ayase. "To what might I owe the pleasure of this visit? I'm sure our working hours haven't started yet."

The golden-eyed boy stared at the blonde, baffled. "What are you doing here? This is my room."

"Eh? Really? But Kajimoto-kun assigned this room to me…" Ayase cocked his head on one side, looking quite puzzled. "He said that nobody was using it."

"Che. That idiot," grumbled Ryoma. "He _knows_ that I come back here sometimes. I'll have a word with him."

"Oh no, but Kajimoto-kun isn't around right now," said the blonde, now apparently anxious. "He's meeting Hanamura-san in the ladies' section. He said he wouldn't be back for a while."

Ryoma glowered. "So?"

"Why don't you sit down and have tea with me while we wait for Kajimoto-kun," suggested Ayase diplomatically. "I know I'd enjoy the company, and I think the tea will calm you down."

"I don't like tea," muttered the younger male, but he followed the blonde into the room anyway.

It was only then that he noticed the room had… changed. _Since when was it a tatami room?! Well, maybe they redid it in the six months since I was here…_ However, the size of the room wasn't very different – still so small as to be almost uncomfortable, yet not quite small enough to complain too much about. In addition to the new tatami setting, there was a futon already spread out on one side of the room, and a tiny table in the middle of the floor. It was barely big enough to hold the miniature teapot and cups arranged on it.

"I was just about to have my after-dinner tea," explained Ayase, settling down behind the table with the ease of practice. "It washes down the meal so well, don't you think?"

"I normally take coffee or hot chocolate, if I have to have a hot drink," said Ryoma, sitting down so carelessly that he landed with quite a bump. Trying to steady himself, his foot caught one leg of the small table and dragged it a little way.

Ayase's cup had been balanced precariously on the edge of the table. The sudden shift caused by Ryoma's little accident was all that it took for the cup to fall off the tiny piece of furniture – and empty its contents onto Ayase's kimono.

The blonde hissed in pain as the hot liquid seeped through the silk. "Oh, dear. I'd better change," he remarked, examining the dark spot left by the tea."Help yourself to the tea."

"Sorry," mumbled Ryoma, actually apologetic. He wasn't normally so careless. It had to be due to his bad mood over Atobe.

"No, don't worry about it," said Ayase, sliding open a section of a wall to reveal a cupboard. "I should have warned you." Without warning, he pulled his kimono open and let it fall.

It seemed that Ayase didn't cultivate a habit of wearing underwear. The younger male determinedly averted his eyes, then, remembering that the blonde had his back to him, went back to staring openly.

Ayase's skin was milk-pale and appeared as smooth as the silk that had just covered it. Faint marks could just be discerned on his shoulder and hips, hinting so tantalizingly that Ryoma had to remind himself to close his mouth, while the muscles covering that lithe body shifted visibly in the harsh light.

_So much for wanting company_, thought Ryoma. _You'll be having more company than you could stand, once news of you spreads around the court._

"I'm in the mood for something gold," mused the blonde. "Hmm… this will do." He took a deep, burnished gold kimono patterned with sprays of white flowers out and put it on, covering that miraculous expanse of skin. The other male silently mourned the loss of his private visual feast.

Of course, the new kimono was a treat of its own. The dark gold color offset Ayase's blonde hair, making it appear like strands of bright yellow-gold. As he turned around, Ryoma busied himself with the teapot and promptly spilt tea onto the table.

"You're such a klutz," remarked Ayase, smiling to show that it wasn't meant as an insult. "Here, I'll clean it up."

"No, I'll do it –" In their respective eagerness to reach the affected spot, they managed to overturn the whole table. The scuffle that resulted somehow ended with Ryoma kneeling over the blonde, with tea dripping from his nose onto the other's exposed chest (the kimono had not come through in very good shape). Shattered porcelain dug into his hands.

Ayase's eyes were open for once, and Ryoma noted that they were a cerulean blue that was deep and chilling yet simultaneously provocatively mischievous. "Ryoma-kun, working hours haven't begun yet," he whispered, his breath ghosting on the other's arm. "And what would Atobe-sama think?"

"Who cares?" demanded the golden-eyed boy fiercely. "That Monkey King can go and find someone else. It's not like he wants me _that_ badly, not the way he's been ignoring me recently. It'll serve him right."

"You want to make him jealous?" inquired Ayase. "Oh, I feel so used. And here I thought you actually wanted me."

"I do!" exploded Ryoma. "I do, and so sucks to Atobe!"

"Saa, I didn't you wanted me so badly," commented the blonde. "But just one thing…"

Without warning, he grabbed Ryoma's arms and flipped them over so that the younger male was on the floor. Even as the golden-eyed boy gasped from the impact, the blonde leaned down and luxuriously licked the tea from his skin, all the way from his cheeks down his neck.

"You don't get to take me, not until I think you're worth it." Ayase was smiling still, but this was a very different smile. It was the smile of a predator, a smile that promised pain as well as pleasure.

Ryoma's blood hummed in his ears; he closed his eyes in acquiescence. _Heh. I won't be sulking while waiting for Atobe,_ he thought as warm hands peeled off his tea-soaked shirt and drifted tantalizingly over his newly exposed skin.

Tea really wasn't all that bad.

* * *

**A/N: -ducks rotten eggs and cabbages- I'M SORRY, I'M REALLY REALLY SORRY!!! I DON'T LIKE THRILL PAIR EITHER!!! Just bear with it, and with me, will you? It's for the sake of the plot! If it helps any, Fuji doesn't actually like Ryoma. Yeah. –gets a tomato in the face- Okay, I guess it doesn't help. But please bear with it? Pretty pretty please with a cherry and a half-naked Fuji on top? –begs-**

**Ahem. So, I'm sure that by now you've realized that Fuji is Ayase. If you haven't because you've been freaking out over the fact that it's THRILL PAIR, THE HORROR and etc, well, now I'm telling you that Fuji's fake name is Ayase. I was watching Okane Ga Nai! and decided that Ayase was an awesome name for an uke. Not that Fuji **_**is**_** Ryoma's uke… -faints- Anyways, I just wanted to clarify that I will refer to Fuji as Ayase when I write in Ryoma's sort-of POV and that I will refer to him as Fuji when in Fuji's sort-of POV, but Ryoma will still be calling him Ayase. Did that make sense? O.o Well, if it didn't, it's nothing very important, so don't mind… -shot-**

**-relooks chapter- hmm, I think I've made everyone (especially Fuji and Ryoma) like, uber OOC. Oh man… -dies- this is what comes of writing pairings that I don't actually ship! T.T**

**On a (hopefully) more important note, this chapter is the last one for this year, and probably the last one I can produce with such regularity. Next year is gonna be super hectic, so I'm warning you now that I may not update for months on end. But **_**I WILL TRY**_**. And I'm writing as fast as I can now to get as much of the story done by the time 2010 rolls round.**

**On a less important note, this fic has reached the landmark 100 pages! Wooohts!!**

**Please review! Reviews inspire me to write more and faster! Think of it as a Christmas present for me XD Merry Christmas everyone!**


	11. XI Alibi

_**XI – Alibi**_

"Ah. That's good to hear," said Yukimura, smiling widely. "Yes, I understand. Continue as you have so far, and don't forget the plan." He ended the call, grinning like a cat that had got into the cream. "Renji."

"Yes, Yukimura?" The data master didn't turn around, keeping his eyes on the many monitors around the room.

"Fuji does good work. He says he has Ryoma in his hands already. It seems that we can move up the schedule," remarked the blunette, standing. "I'll inform Akaya to start on the mission. You will fill him in on the necessary details."

* * *

"Niou, do you have an agent who looks respectable enough to appear to be an engineer from Tengi Gas?"

"Yeah, sure, but what for?"

"We need to do a little job with the gas pipes in Sanada's house. Akaya can do the essentials, but it would look quite suspicious to have such a young kid fixing gas pipes unsupervised, wouldn't you think?"

"Hmm… I guess Tachibana would fit the bill pretty well."

"Do you think he can work with Akaya?"

"Well, about that… if I remember correctly, they didn't get along very well… but never fear,

* * *

The doorbell rang. "Answer the door, Sakuno-chan, there's a dear," said Yuuki, not looking up from her violin.

Sakuno hurried to obey, wondering who would come to call on the mistress. Sanada-sama was not around, though Yuuki had just received a call from his subordinate saying that he would be home in time for dinner.

Opening the door, she saw two unfamiliar men, one blonde, one with dark hair, both carrying packs. The blonde bowed to her in greeting. "I apologize for the intrusion, but we are from Tengi Gas Enterprise…"

She recognized the name as that of the company in charge of most of Tengi's natural gas pipelines, used mostly in cooking stoves. "Oh! Um, how may we help you?"

"Well, unfortunately we have discovered that there may be a possible defect in the pipe system for this house. Perhaps we should speak to the master of the household?" ventured the man.

"Yes, yes, of course, please come in," stammered the maid, quite out of her depth. She'd only come into service recently, and the thought that there might be something horribly wrong with the stove she'd used so often…! "Um, but Sanada-sama isn't here right now…"

"Who is it, Sakuno-chan?" called Yuuki from the inside room.

"Um, um, it's the gas servicing people! They're here for Sanada-sama…" She trailed off, unsure.

"Oh, is that all? I'll see them. Invite them in, please." From the next room, Yuuki came out, moving easily in her wheelchair.

"Sorry for the intrusion," the pair chorused as they entered the house.

Once they were seated, the blonde, who appeared to be the elder of the two and the one in charge, explained their purpose. "You see, we recently received some rather alarming data about the gas composition in this area from the town council. From the statistics, we concluded that there was a gas leak in one or more of the houses in this area."

"Ah, I see. So you came here to fix the problem, um…?" Yuuki paused, clearly waiting for them to fill in the blank.

"Oh, sorry for being so impolite. I'm Tachibana from Tengi Gas Enterprise, and this is my assistant, Kirihara." The younger male tipped his cap automatically. Sakuno, who was kneeling by the door, noted that the cap barely managed to tame his thick black curls. Suddenly, Kirihara looked at her full in the face, and she nearly let out a gasp of surprise – his right eye was bright orange, whereas his left was bright green!

"I'm Sanada Yuuki, and I'm very happy to make your acquaintance, Tachibana-san, Kirihara-san. Please go ahead and carry out whatever needs to be done," said the mistress. "Only… will it take very long? I would like to use the stove to make dinner for my husband tonight."

"Don't worry, it will be done quite quickly," assured Tachibana. "It will take just over half an hour, if everything goes well. We will fix the gas outlet and then fumigate the house with a gas that will neutralize whatever has leaked out. After fifteen minutes, it should be safe to use the stove."

"Thank you very much. Don't let me keep you from your work any longer," smiled Yuuki. "Sakuno, show them to the kitchen, please."

The maid did as she was told, stealing scared glances at the odd-eyed Kirihara whenever she could. Surely it was impossible for anyone to have such strange eyes? "Um, here's the stove. Will you need anything?"

"No, it's a fairly simple job," replied Tachibana. Kirihara only scowled.

"Okay, I will be with Yuuki-sama should you need me for anything," said the girl, bowing politely before leaving.

* * *

"Idiot girl," muttered Kirihara. "And Yanagi, why the heck did you give me an _orange_ iris-cam?! Did you see the way she freaked out? I'm _so_ not going to be forgettable…"

"The point was to make you memorable," came Yanagi's voice in his earpiece. "A false person made memorable is always more effective than a real person made forgettable. They can search all their files for a person with one orange and one green eye going by the name of Kirihara, but that person doesn't exist, and the closest match – you – is presumed dead."

"I hate you when you make sense," grumbled the younger male. "So, now what?"

"Slip the explosive at the base of the stove," instructed the data master. "Tachibana, the methylbutane and dimethylpropane."

"Got it." Tachibana extracted three large cylinders from his pack. Opening the first, he poured a clear liquid onto the floor near the stove, careful not to get any onto himself or his companion.

Kirihara, meanwhile, had successfully inserted the packet of explosive powder at the mouth of the gas outlet and reconnected the stove. Avoiding the spreading puddle of methylbutane, he walked over to pick up one of the other two cylinders. "Where would be best?"

"One cylinder should be released in the room Yuuki spends her time. The other should either be released between that room and the kitchen if they are far apart, or at the other end of the house if they are close to each other."

"Why make it so troublesome?" Grumbling, the curly-haired male walked out of the kitchen in search of the mistress.

Tachibana followed soon after with the other cylinder. "Yuuki-san!"

"Yes?" They followed the voice into an airy, spacious room painted orange and red by the evening sun. Seated in her wheelchair, the woman held a violin under her chin, her other hand running over a page in front of her – probably a score sheet written in Braille. Beside her was the young maid who had met them at the door.

"We need to release the gases for the fumigation of the house," explained Tachibana. "Would you mind if we do so here?"

"No, please carry on. Is there any other area that you feel would need attention?" inquired Yuuki, lowering her violin.

"Yes, actually. Since we would like to make sure the entire house is fumigated, we need to release another batch of gas in the area furthest from the kitchen as well," said the older man. "Kirihara will do that, if he could be shown where."

The woman nodded. "Sakuno, please bring Kirihara-san to the bedroom," she instructed.

Sakuno bowed and left the room, pausing to make sure that Kirihara was following before leading him to another part of the house. They walked in silence, the girl watching him warily.

When they arrived, she bowed. "This is the room."

"Thanks," said Kirihara perfunctorily. The girl flinched when he spoke, and he suppressed a sigh of exasperation. "You can go back now." Turning his back firmly, he started pressing the spray.

"Walk around the room," instructed Yanagi. "You must make sure it gets dispersed into the air throughout the place."

Since the maid was still there, Kirihara didn't answer, but walked the perimeter of the room while spraying rather mechanically. As he did so, he wondered why he hadn't bothered to find out if the gas was poisonous if inhaled. What was it again… dimeth-something or other…

* * *

Sakuno watched rather nervously as the curly-haired man walked around the room spraying the gas at random, frowning the whole time. Had she said something to make him so upset…?

Really, those mismatched eyes had a strange fascination. The way they were both such strong colors and yet so very different. She had a hard time keeping herself from staring openly, confining herself to stolen glances. She'd never seen such strange eyes before, and she would probably remember it for the rest of her life.

Having walked a full circuit of the room, the man came back to her at the door, and she led him back to the mistress's room. The other man, Tachibana, seemed to be waiting for them, their packs on the floor next to him and his cylinder packed away. "Sorry for the delay," she apologized.

"Are you done?" asked Tachibana. When Kirihara nodded, he turned back to Yuuki. "Thank you for your time, and we apologize for the intrusion. We will take our leave now. Please remember not to use the stove for the next fifteen minutes."

"I certainly will. Thank you for your help. Sakuno, show them to the door." Smiling, Yuuki shook hands with the blonde man, then leant back in her wheelchair as the young maid obeyed.

When Sakuno returned, Yuuki clapped her hands with a smile. "Since we have fifteen minutes before we can start cooking, why don't we prepare the ingredients for the hotpot while waiting?"

"Um, that sounds great! I'll get the ingredients out! Um, are we going to have fish or meat hotpot?" asked the girl.

"I think meat will suit the occasion better," replied Yuuki after some consideration. "I only hope Genichirou doesn't come back too quickly, or we won't be ready for him…"

The pair went to the kitchen and began their preparations, quite oblivious to the fact that they were standing in just-evaporated methylbutane and surrounded by dimethylpropane. Naturally, the two gases were colorless, barely odorous and highly flammable.

Combined with the explosive in the stove, they never stood a chance.

* * *

Tachibana Kippei was not by nature a malicious person. He had carried out his part of this plan rather unwillingly, but who was he to say no to the Shirosagi? People who did that usually wound up dead or bankrupt. Neither were very enticing prospects for him.

Of course, Tachibana didn't actually work in Tengi Gas Enterprise. He was a banker, high enough in the hierarchy to receive a comfortable salary, low enough to be unknown to most. As such, he was perfectly placed to manage the dubious transactions of the Shirosagi, who had employed him through his sister An.

Not that Tachibana would normally have agreed to work for a swindler, but when he realized that An was already in very deep with this mysterious Shirosagi's organization, there was little he could do but acquiesce. Also, that they had made contact was enough to be a threat. According to An, the Shirosagi was a merciless employer who ruined any who opposed him, even if they weren't even in his pay.

His main problem was with the partner assigned to him. They had worked together before, and Kirihara had conducted all his duties with eyes that shone with a sick anticipation. Tachibana felt decidedly uncomfortable about it. The younger man must have some strange fascination with killing and hurting others, which only matched what Tachibana knew of the Shirosagi.

Remembering something, he asked, "Yanagi-san? Would it be advisable for me to take leave from work for a while?"

The earpiece buzzed in reply almost immediately. "Certainly not. That would only make you look suspicious to anyone willing to search so far. Don't worry – any evidence will be destroyed."

Tachibana remembered the several steel-encased security devices at strategic locations throughout the house. The thought of a blaze hot and fierce enough to destroy _them_ was enough to make dread pour down his spine like ice.

Those women didn't deserve this… but what was done was done. He turned, taking his leave of Kirihara, and headed for home. They didn't deserve to die, but if they didn't, he and An were more than likely to die in their place.

_It's them or us,_ he told himself, keeping his head bowed as he left the scene.

* * *

As per his orders, Kirihara lingered near the house to make sure that the plan proceeded as it should. Since there was really nothing else he could do, he went to the Fuji house. It was in the same district, _and_ Fuji Syuusuke wasn't around. Yanagi had confirmed that for him.

Like a civilized person, he rang the doorbell and waited. But being who he was, he got impatient rather quickly and soon started contemplating the gate and wondering whether it was worth climbing it. Happily the gate opened before he actually started climbing. The neighbors and their servants would have been quite appalled at the sight of a strange youth clambering over the gate of the Fuji residence.

Saeki met him at the gate. "Well, if it isn't Kirihara-kun! Why'd you come? Syuusuke isn't around right now."

Kirihara snorted. "I didn't come to see _him_. I'm only here because Yukimura wanted me to stick around to make sure that Sanada's house gets blown up properly."

"Ah, I see." The ninja nodded sagely. "As expected of Yukimura. I was guessing he'd have a plan of this sort."

"Yeah. He's kind of bored since he's making Fuji do something he won't tell me about, so he said he wanted to see Sanada's wife get blown up and asked if I could do it. Can I come in? It's weird to stand in the gate talking," complained Kirihara. "I've got to hang around for fifteen minutes. It's so boring."

Saeki laughed. "Yes, do come in. We actually have another guest in residence right now, in your old room."

"Eh?" The green-eyed male frowned. "Who?"

"This police sergeant called Tezuka Kunimitsu," answered the ninja, leading the guest to the house after closing and locking the gate. "Syuusuke's rather… interested in him."

"Why am I not surprised?" grumbled Kirihara. "The only people who can stay here are his family, your family or someone he feels like playing with."

"That's true, I guess," conceded Saeki. "But I get the feeling that Syuusuke enjoys torturing the poor guy. Tezuka clearly wants to know what's happening outside, and Syuusuke drops hints here and there… it's rather pathetic to see, because he's too proud to ask, but the way he listens…"

"_You_ sound like you've got a thing for him too," remarked the other male. "Is he all that awesome?"

Saeki grinned. "Why don't you go and see for yourself?"

They walked through the house, heading towards one of the more central rooms. Kirihara looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings. "If he's so interested in this guy, why'd he leave him with you?"

"He's got a _job_ in the palace," explained the ninja, emphasizing the word 'job' to make sure Kirihara got his meaning. "Having another man around would be quite disruptive, don't you think?"

Kirihara blushed and looked away. "… Yeah." Much as he hated the Akasagi, the thought of others handling the brunette's slim body and marking his pale skin always gave him the shivers.

"Here he is." Saeki opened the door to his old room.

It was the same as he remembered, with a tatami floor, a few wall hangings, and the tea table as well as cushions and a futon rolled up in the corner. Next to the table sat the room's new occupant.

At first glance, he looked like any other twenty-something-year-old, with brown hair and eyes behind frameless spectacles. But after a second look, Kirihara had to admit that Tezuka was quite an interesting person, especially when considered from the point of view of Fuji Syuusuke.

Tezuka's hands were big, but they were long-fingered and elegant. His face was expressionless, but Kirihara knew well that Fuji took great pleasure in breaking other people's masks. His brown hair had hints of gold in it, and despite its messiness, it still managed to look artfully stylish.

Kirihara's nose wrinkled. "Huh. Fuji will have fun with this guy, I'm sure."

"Who are you?" inquired Tezuka.

The younger male flapped a hand. "Nobody you need to know."

"He's a friend of Syuusuke's," supplied Saeki.

"I see." The brunette lapsed back into stony silence, picking up a book he had apparently been reading before they had come.

Kirihara turned his back on the other man. "I should get going. It's almost time."

Barely had the words left his mouth when the sound of a terrific explosion rattled the walls of the house. The green-eyed male sighed. "There it goes. I'd best be off."

"Wait." Tezuka's voice made him pause. "You caused… whatever just happened?"

Kirihara looked at the brunette right in the eye. "And so what if I did? You can't do anything about it. You're just a plaything – or perhaps a pet, confined to this room, waiting for your master to come home. Enjoy yourself listening to the fun, why don't you?"

With that, he left the house.

* * *

The blaze was wonderful. Kirihara could definitely understand the saying he'd heard several times – nothing was as beautiful to watch as fire or flowing water. Though he leaned towards fire.

Bright yellow flames licked the sky, their purple-black bases rooted behind the crumbling walls of the house. The sheer heat was forcing the brick structure to collapse and fold, like a wax sculpture melting, and the roof had long since fallen in. With tatami floors and largely paper walls, the inside of the house was burning fast and hot, throwing ever-brighter sparks into the deep purple sky as the sun's last rays faded. The brick outer walls were already black with soot and riddled with cracks from the fire.

Hidden in the crowd of spectators, Kirihara patted himself on the back for a job well done. The two females in the house were probably burnt to cinders already, and the security devices were likely to be damaged beyond repair because of the heat.

"Good work," commented Yanagi in his earpiece. "Wait a while longer to see if anyone survives."

"Okay." Firefighters were already converging on the house, their red vehicles dull in comparison to the glory of the dancing flames. Close behind came the ambulances and the police.

After an hour and a half's worth of putting out the fire, searching the house and arguing among themselves, the firefighters began carting out piles of ash, to be identified by advanced DNA technologies. No survivors were found. The police, meanwhile, went to work investigating the scene.

Kirihara turned his back on the house, heading off to catch the ferry to Kannagi. The police would probably find traces of the chemicals, but they'd never find the boy with orange and green eyes.

He smiled._ Yukimura_ _would be happy…_

* * *

**A/N: Whew, it's done! I'm actually not very happy with this chapter. I should have been able to write it better, but it turned out… weird. And I was planning it for some time, too! I must be losing my touch, what with all the stress from school…**

**Oh well. Anyway, Sanada's OC wife has been killed off… let's see, only two chapters after I introduced her? Well, she was meant to die. You can't have expected me to let her live, not after what Yukimura's been through… O.o Though you **_**could **_**argue that she's completely innocent – but Yukimura doesn't care, does he?**

**First chapter of 2010, and it's actually got some kind of plot XD it felt a tad draggy to me, but I wanted to make sure all the details were correct and consistent. It's a pretty big set-up, after all. (if anyone wants to know, methylbutane and dimethylpropane are highly flammable chemicals. Methylbutane is a very volatile liquid at room temperature while dimethylpropane is a gas. Setting off a bomb in an environment saturated with these two gets you a magnificent bonfire, as seen above.)**

**Also, just in case anyone thinks Sakuno is super OOC, well, all I have to say in my defense is that I hate her and just put her in because Yuuki needs a maid. Haha, Sakuno's only fit to be a maid to the character who dies really fast… -evil laughter- okay that's pretty mean, but yeah, I really dislike her and I wrote her from my impression of her.**

**Ending this was tough T.T hope it wasn't too abrupt or weird… :-X**

**Please review! I love any feedback that can help me improve!**

**P.S. Bus Gamer is really cool, and it's only 3 episodes long. Anyone who's feeling bored should go try it out.**

**P.P.S. I finally watched the NEWS Winter Party Diamond DVD! I wanted to scream when I saw Tegoshi appear in a schoolgirl outfit… he makes a pretty damn awesome girl! KYAAAAH~!**

**P.P.P.S. Thanks for reading this uber-long A/N! –hugs- It wasn't meant to be this long, but somehow it lengthened… and lengthened… and lengthened… and ended up like this. –shot- Again, please review!**


	12. XII Ai no Matador

_**XII – Ai no Matador (Love's Matador)**_

"Well done, Akaya," praised Yukimura. "You've carried out your mission with great success. I would love to see Sanada's face when he finds out."

The younger male grinned. "Yeah. It'd be really funny. You should've heard his wife, so eager to have him coming home! She couldn't tell that it was a faked message!"

"Naturally," said Yanagi. "After all, it was Sanada's voice. It was a simple matter of finding a recording of his previous conversations and putting words together as required."

A low, ominous rumble of thunder interrupted their conversation. "Oh dear, it seems like it's about to rain," commented the blunette, glancing out of the window at the threatening thunderheads.

"The _tsuyu_ is beginning," said the data master from his place by the computers, referring to the monsoon-like rains that blanketed Japan every summer. "It may slow down investigations, with luck."

"'Luck'?!" repeated Kirihara, shocked that the data master would actually use such a word. Yukimura laughed.

"I am able to converse like other people, though I often choose not to," stated the brunette, his voice quite neutral. "To amend my statement, though, there is a 40 percent chance that investigations will be affected."

"Such a low possibility," remarked Yukimura.

Yanagi shrugged. "From what we observed with Kirihara's help, the police had already secured much of the data available on site. However, the rains will get rid of whatever that is left – whatever they might have missed. Thus, they probably have the necessary evidence already, but will not be able to obtain anything more."

"That's comforting," commented Marui, popping his bubblegum.

"It is, isn't it?" agreed Kirihara, who hadn't been paying much attention. "Hey, I'm hungry. Can I get some food?"

"Go ahead," said the blunette, smiling indulgently. "Have a break. We have some time before anything is required of us again."

* * *

There was a flurry of knocks on the office door. "Urgent message for First Deputy Commissioner Sanada!"

Sanada growled. "This had better be important, when I specifically instructed them that I was _not_ to be interrupted under any circumstances while we are investigating…!" He buzzed the messenger through rather irately. "Well? What is it?"

"C-commissioner Sanada!" The unfortunate messenger actually backed up a few steps under his superior's fierce glower. "The Accidents department s-sent me to tell you that – that your house was, um, burned."

"My house was burned?" repeated Sanada, his frown deepening. "Stand up straight and deliver the message clearly, boy!"

"Y-yessir!" The messenger snapped to attention immediately. "Commissioner Sanada's house caught fire for reasons as yet unknown at approximately 6.30 p.m. this evening. There were –" here he paused for a moment, then forced himself to continue when Sanada raised an eyebrow " – there were no survivors."

The older man blinked, slowly. "No survivors?"

"No survivors," confirmed the messenger, steeling himself for the explosion that seemed imminent.

"I see. You may go." At the abrupt dismissal, the messenger heaved an inward sigh of relief and fled as fast as he could.

Sanada sat down hard. He felt numb; his mind seemed to be working in slow motion, churning sluggishly as if through thick mud, trying to process this revelation. One random thought flitted through – _So it _was_ important, after all…_

His house had burned. There were no survivors. That meant that whoever had been in the house was dead.

Who had been in the house? His wife, and her personal maid.

There was no doubt in his mind as to who had set the blaze. It had to be Yukimura – nobody else bore such a fierce grudge against him or his family. After seeing the silky cruelty of how the Kurosagi worked… he didn't put it past the pretty blunette to commit arson or homicide, especially if it was directed against him.

Anger built up slowly, burning like embers but spreading its heat throughout his being. He wasn't particularly affected by the fact that it was his wife who had died, but rather that two blameless people had been killed for no good reason. Yukimura's quarrel was with Sanada – there was no need to drag in innocents! As a swindler it could perhaps be understood – money motivated people to do unspeakable things. But this – this was cold-blooded murder.

Any misgivings he had about jailing Yukimura vanished like smoke. His will firmed; his eyes took on a steely glint as he faced his computer again, newfound strength awakening in him.

"Inui." The data master glanced around inquiringly. "Put off all other police projects, gather our full manpower and resources, and then scour the world for Yukimura. Anywhere and everywhere that has the slightest possibility of being used by him as a dwelling or headquarters. I don't care if he's in Antarctica, Paris, Rwanda or the Himalayas. I wand you to find him _now_."

Yukimura must be brought to justice, and there was no one who could do it but Sanada.

* * *

Rain cloaked the city. Staring drowsily out at the dull grey clouds, Jirou commented, "It's so sad. Rain, that is."

"Why do you say that?" inquired Atobe absently. He was going through reports on the latest slew of meetings, and thus didn't pay much attention to his adoptive brother. "It's just rain. Precipitation of water in the air. It washes out the city. We've needed a good rain for a while…"

"Well, when I was really, really small, my mom used to tell me that rain was the sun's tears," said the younger male. "That when a good person dies, the sun is sad and cries for that person, and that's why it rains."

Atobe glanced over, surprised. "If you look at it that way, it really would seem very sad. One death per thunderstorm or spring shower! But that also means that a lot of good people die during summer, since we have the _tsuyu_ then, and none in winter, since it snows rather than rains."

"No, the snow is still rain, just that it's frozen," corrected Jirou. He sighed. ""I guess it's just a story… but rain still makes me sad. Grey, wet, dreary. It makes me sleepy too."

"You're always sleepy," retorted the king, affection clear in his eyes though his tone was admonishing. He turned back to his reports.

Now that Jirou had mentioned it, the dull greyness of the sky and the low white noise made by the falling raindrops did indeed put him in a less cheerful mood. It made him think of things he didn't want to dwell on, such as the fact that Ryoma had come to him for nearly a week already.

They'd been holding an important conference, one that Atobe could not afford to avoid, so he could understand if his lover got a bit put off by his constant absence and endless work-related duties. But Ryoma had never stayed away that long – after a couple of days, he normally appeared at his side with a sulky pout and scolded him for being so inattentive. At present, Atobe had not seen hide or hair of Ryoma for five days, and he was getting rather worried about it.

He had inquired of his people if they'd seen him, and enough of them had, which allayed his fears that the golden-eyed boy had vanished like Mizuki. Yet Atobe himself never saw him. Could Ryoma possibly be so irritated as to avoid him…?

Atobe sighed and put those thoughts from his mind. The sooner he cleared up the conference, the sooner he could go and find his lover, after which he would make amends as required.

Outside, rain continued to fall. Atobe wondered if a good person had really died.

* * *

"It's raining," complained Ryoma. "It makes everything so dark and dreary. And _wet_. I _hate_ the wet."

"I like rain," commented Fuji with a smile. "It feels cleansing."

"Huh." Ryoma folded his arms, determined to be grumpy. "You're disagreeing with me just to be disagreeable."

Fuji's smile grew wider. "So what if I am?"

The golden-eyed male frowned. "Che. Stop doing that."

"Stop doing what?" The brunette tilted his head, innocent as a bird.

"Stop _smiling_ like that. It's creepy," the younger male informed him.

"But I like to smile," protested Fuji, continuing to maintain that expression. "It makes life happier. _You_ should smile more."

"Whatever," grumbled Ryoma. "I don't know why I put up with this nonsense."

Fuji's smile morphed into a predatory smirk. "Don't you? Perhaps we should continue where we left off last night…"

Ryoma blushed. "Shut up."

"Okay," said Fuji agreeably. "First, though, may I bring up the matter of your spending five nights in my company without any manner of payment?"

"Payment?" repeated the golden-eyed male, surprised. "Since when was I supposed to pay you?"

"Well, my job here is as a pleasure house worker," the Akasagi reminded him. "So, my services in the area of pleasure require payment."

"You never said anything before," accused the younger male. "Besides, _you_ started it."

"Saa, that may be true, but when I did, I never expected to be forfeiting a week's worth of income," explained the brunette-turned-blonde. "The first few times were fine, but if you'd like this to be a more long-term arrangement, I _will_ require some form of payment. You may not know, but this place charges rent."

"I _do_ know," growled Ryoma. "I used to work here too." He frowned at the taller male. "Well? How much do you want?"

"Hmm… I'd rather you did me a favor instead of paying me. And you can have my services for free after it's done," suggested Fuji. This would take careful handling. The youth was on the defensive now. Perhaps it would have been better to talk about it when Ryoma was on the verge of coming… he'd agree to anything then, most likely.

"What favor?" demanded the younger male. "I'm not going to ask Atobe to give you a title of nobility, if that's what you're after. He can't do it, anyway."

Fuji chuckled. "I'm not after _that_. It's something much easier. Just get a friend of mine laid, that's all I ask."

The golden-eyed male blinked. "Come again?"

"One of my friends is a staunch virgin, though he's already married," explained the Akasagi. "I actually have a bet on with another of my friends on whether or not he gets laid before the month is out."

Ryoma's eyebrows rose. "That's a short time-frame."

"We had the bet a year ago," Fuji clarified. "He got married a year or so before then, and we friends started getting a little impatient."

"Who's this guy, anyway?" inquired the younger male, keeping his scowl but sounding genuinely curious.

"Sanada Genichirou," answered the Akasagi. "He's the First Deputy Commissioner of the police force. Do you know him? He's married to Oshitari Yuushi's younger sister."

"Oh, that blind woman?" Ryoma thought for a moment. "That tall guy who looks like he's got a pinecone embedded someplace uncomfortable?"

"That does sound like him," agreed Fuji, chuckling.

"How am _I_ supposed to help you get him laid?" the golden-eyed male wanted to know. "You're the professional here."

The Akasagi sighed. "I won't dispute that. But our group of friends has tried its best with Sanada, professionals and amateurs alike, and he still doesn't get laid. It's really quite disappointing. He needs it."

That startled a laugh out of his companion. "Yeah, maybe he wouldn't be so uptight if he did. I seem to remember Atobe saying that Sanada suffers from overwhelming virginity."

"Precisely my point," declared Fuji. "So, I need to get him laid, but the bet didn't specify that it must be me. I'd really appreciate some help from you. As I said before, you'll have me all to yourself once this is over. My winnings from the bet should be able to cover the rental costs here for a decent length of time."

"Well, like I just said, I still don't see how I can help you here," complained Ryoma. "You're not exactly being clear about it."

Fuji grinned. The kid was in his sway now. Maybe a round of physical persuasion later would drum it in further, but for now this would have to do. "See, I got this awesome drink from an acquaintance that's helping me in this bet. It's supposed to contain certain hormones that increase the drinker's desire to have sex. Now, if Sanada got a little of this in his evening coffee…"

"He'll get horny and jump someone?" ventured the younger male.

"Something like that," granted the Akasagi. "How do you help? Well, all you need to do get someone important, let's say Oshitari Yuushi or Atobe himself, to invite our dear Deputy Commissioner to dinner. You'll spike his drink at dinner, or you'll arrange it such that the drink gets spiked before it goes in."

"I don't like the second idea," interjected Ryoma. "What if he jumps Oshitari or Atobe? It's not something I'd like to see, thank you very much."

"That's very true," agreed Fuji, imagining it. "Sanada with Oshitari would be quite terrible, though I can't say as much for him and Atobe. Anyway, the point is that his drink gets spiked, and then he gets himself laid with whoever's at hand in about two hours. That's apparently how long it takes to build up his libido to the point that it becomes unbearable."

"I see…" The golden-eyed boy considered the plan. "But seriously, it doesn't seem worth all the trouble when I could just pay you in cash if I want to sleep with you."

_Damn_. Fuji kept his smile in place, his mind racing. "Saa… how about if I let you top?"

Ryoma's eyes widened. "Eh?"

Seeing the reaction, the Akasagi mentally patted himself on the back for a good idea. He put on his most mischievously alluring smile. "Yes, for you I would consider it." Before the golden-eyed male could respond, he leaned over and pulled Ryoma, seated next to him, into a kiss that promised passion to come.

To his credit, the younger male did resist him for a time, but expert touches on his neck and hips soon melted his defenses. Fuji was, after all, a professional.

Ryoma never stood a chance.

* * *

Gakuto stretched, catlike, in the velvet cushions of an armchair. The muted noise of the rain that had continued throughout the night and into the next day, combined with the soft lighting of Yuushi's chambers and the comfortable cushions, combined to make him _very_ sleepy. "Ne Yuushi, talk to me."

In the past couple of weeks, the tall blunette had sought Gakuto's company increasingly often and for longer periods. By this time, the redhead was spending more time in Yuushi's rooms than in his own. He had also become familiar enough with the other man to use his first name freely and to whine whenever he felt like it. Yuushi always indulged him.

"What about?" inquired the other man, not looking up from his book.

"I dunno. Your family?" The redhead yawned. "I hear your sister just died in a freak fire accident."

At this, the blunette lowered the book, raising an eyebrow at his companion. "Now how would _you_ know that?"

Flapping a hand lazily, Gakuto explained, "I've a friend working in the area. He mentioned that Sanada Genichirou's house exploded in flames last night. It was apparently quite a spectacle. If I remember correctly, he said that nobody was taken away in the ambulances, so I assume whoever was in there died. And your sister lived there, right? That's what Kajimoto said, anyway."

Yuushi shrugged. "Yes, that's true. It isn't exactly private knowledge, I guess. Especially since Sanada has been in the hot seat these past few weeks."

"He has?" Gakuto feigned surprise. "He's a policeman, isn't he? What's the problem? I thought the prison break thing was hushed up."

That made Yuushi smile. "He claims it wasn't. It seems that he knows the mastermind behind the break, and he's apparently searching for that person now. Actually, Atobe's just been at him about finding Mizuki. Those two never did get along."

"Oh." The redhead yawned again. "So your sister did die, right?"

"Yes, she did." Yuushi's smile vanished. "I'm quite sure it's something to do with the prison break and the swindling case Sanada's supposed to be investigating. Yuuki would never hurt a fly."

Gakuto slid out of his armchair and went over to the blunette, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders. With Yuushi's help, he had how to be spontaneous, at least with him, and it was getting easier by the day. "Are you gonna scold Sanada?"

"Well, our respective families have planned a little get-together dinner." The bespectacled man caressed the slim arms that embraced him. "I believe that both sides intend to inform Sanada of how displeased they are with the recent events. However, I expect the Sanada clan to make sure their son isn't too mauled by our group."

"Will you be going too?" asked the smaller man.

"She was my sister. Of course I'll be there," replied Yuushi. "Much as I dislike family gatherings, I am in no way averse to giving Sanada Genichirou a piece of my mind for getting Yuuki involved in whatever he's doing."

"He _has_ to go, hasn't he? He won't pull a no-show, or _both_ his family and yours will be super pissed off with him – well, even more pissed off than they already are," remarked Gakuto.

The blunette chuckled. "Indeed. If he has any sense of self-preservation, he'll go."

Gakuto smiled. Yukimura had wanted something like this – a social event that Sanada could not avoid. Apparently, it was imperative in Fuji's plan. _Hope you're getting this, Yukimura, Yanagi._ "The way he's been doing things, maybe he doesn't," he suggested blithely.

"Hmm… that might be true," agreed Yuushi. "In any case, I believe that the gathering is scheduled for tonight, which means I shall be deprived of your company this evening. I think we should make up for that now…" Even as he spoke, he pulled the smaller male around the chair and into his arms.

"I should've known," complained Gakuto, but it was clear to both of them that he was complaining more for the sake of complaining that because he was really upset. "You're so predictable, you know."

The blunette grinned and sank his teeth into the other man's skin, where shoulder and neck met. Gakuto yelped. "Don't you love me all the more for that?"

* * *

On Kannagi, Yukimura's lips stretched in a grin. It was not a pleasant grin. "We have him, I think."

Yanagi nodded. "This will be a 70 percent successful opportunity for Fuji to carry out his plan."

Fuji had told them, barely hours ago, that he needed Sanada to be put in an unavoidable social gathering or occasion of sorts. He had hinted that his plan involved drugging the police officer, but apart from that, had not revealed any other information. Yukimura had to be content with what they had.

"I shall inform him at once," said the data master, typing furiously into another computer.

"Yes, please do." Yukimura leaned back in his chair. Things were going well, very well indeed. At this rate, he would have his revenge within the month.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter! I hope this rounded up some of the earlier events suitably, and that the huge proportion of Thrill Pair didn't make anyone puke. Oh god it was traumatizing to write… T.T I know they ended up super OOC –bawls- the only thing I can say in my defense is that I really hate the pair and never read it. Happily I could add in bits of sadistic Fuji-ness to make it a little more bearable. After that, I really couldn't resist adding in the Dirty Pair to dilute the Thrill Pair-ness here.**

**The events ahead have also been laid out. Hope you're looking forward to the downfall of Sanada! –evil laughter – He really shouldn't have dumped Yukimura, now should he?**

**Please Review!**


	13. XIII Easy Come, Easy Go

_**XIII – Easy Come, Easy Go**_

Sanada sighed and wished, not for the first time, that he wore his old cap.

It was a baseball cap, and a number of years ago had been inseparable from him as long as he was outdoors. With its long bill, it was indispensible in uncomfortable social situations. It hid one's face very well when one stood just so against the light.

_This_ was definitely an uncomfortable social situation, but he had no cap to hide behind.

The formal invitation to the family dinner had arrived only late that afternoon, and he'd had little time for mental preparation. He had barely managed to find an appropriately formal suit and tie before searching the palace for the banquet hall that had been booked for the occasion.

It wasn't a very big room, just enough to accommodate the Oshitari and Sanada clans comfortably. The dinner was a buffet, with the long table bearing food at one side and the other one for them to sit at on the other. In the space between the two tables, members of the two clans mingled.

Sanada was under no illusions as to the reason behind this dinner. He was here to be taken to task by both his own family and that of his wife because they all believed he had something to do with her death. Under the polite smiles and greetings of members of the two families, he could sense their doubt and, in some cases, outright suspicion.

He wasn't surprised when he was somehow manipulated to the single seat at the very end of the long banquet table. He _was_ surprised when he saw the person seated at the far end – Oshitari Yuushi, his brother-in-law. Small talk pervaded for a while as servants carried in the last few platters of food. Sanada greeted his seat neighbors – cousins he distantly remembered from his childhood – with as much cordial politeness as he could muster, ignoring the inescapable awkwardness he always felt in these social situations.

As everyone collected food from the buffet table, Sanada found himself next to the tall, bespectacled blunette. Yuushi wore his ultra-formal suit as though he'd been born for that purpose – it fitted him perfectly, sleek clean lines falling just so. Sanada met the other man's eyes without flinching. If his brother-in-law was here to intimidate him, he would soon find that Sanada Genichirou was not a man who could be intimidated easily.

"Good evening," greeted Yuushi with a polite smile. "How are you enjoying this dinner?"

Sanada measured the other man with his eyes, trying to discern if he was being sarcastic. "It's fine. The food's good." That wasn't a lie. The food _was_ good. He just didn't see the point of wasting money on it when simple foods would have tasted equally good. What normal person ate dormice in honey and poppy seeds anyway?

"Indeed," agreed the blunette, helping himself to the said dormice. "One doesn't get this kind of exotic fare very often. My clan told me to go wild with the budget."

"You arranged this?" inquired Sanada, spooning a more palatable piece of teriyaki chicken onto his plate.

"Yes, I did." Yuushi raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

Sanada only grunted in reply, which brought an end to their conversation.

Later, when he returned to his seat, he found that his original neighbors had been replaced by his own parents. He put down his plate and sat, carefully not meeting their eyes. "Itadakimasu."

"Itadakimasu," echoed his parents, and they started on the food. Barely had Sanada swallowed his first mouthful, though, when his father informed him, "I am very disappointed with you, Genichirou. You have grossly disgraced the Sanada name before the Oshitaris."

"I understand, Father," replied Sanada junior, bowing his head in apology. "I will take full responsibility for my foolishness and misjudgment."

"You admit that you have made a mistake?" demanded his mother, her voice stern but her face betraying anxiety on the part of her son.

"I miscalculated," answered her son. "I assumed that the mastermind behind this case was too honorable to go after a civilian. I was mistaken, and this is the price I must pay for it."

"How would you know _anything_ about a criminal mastermind?" His father wasn't at all appeased by this explanation. "In the first place, criminals have no morals. Everyone knows that."

Sanada repressed a sigh. His parents were very rigid, and very worried about the honor of their clan. He couldn't blame them – they, and he, were in the direct line of descent, not a branch family member. Yet, not for the first time, he wished it was easier to make them change their views. 'Never mind, Father. Anyway, the investigations on this case are well under way. We will arrest them soon."

"Excuse me," interjected an unfamiliar voice. Sanada looked up to see a couple about the same age as his parents, the man with blue strands in his silver hair, the woman with tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. These were his parents-in-law, Yuuki and Yuushi's parents. "We would like a word with Genichirou-kun, if you please."

"Ah, of course. Please, don't let us disturb," responded his mother immediately, standing and gathering her plate. "Come on, dear. I would like to speak to Yuushi-kun."

Sanada senior followed his wife, though not before giving his son a last warning glance. The Oshitaris slid into the newly vacated seats. "Good evening, Genichirou-kun. What do you think of this dinner?"

"Good evening. Everything is of impeccable standard, as expected of the Oshitari clan," replied the police officer. "I am honored to have been invited."

The older man nodded in approval. "Now, about the matter of our daughter…"

"I have been doing my best to apprehend the culprit," answered Sanada. "We have been conducting investigations day and night since we received news of the incident."

"And your findings so far?" inquired the lady delicately.

Sanada set down his utensils. "There is evidence that two strangers – men – entered the house a few hours before the fire. One was blonde with dark eyes; the other was dark-haired with one orange and one green eye. They visited several other houses along the street as well."

"Have you found out who they are and what their purpose was?" asked the man, leaning forward urgently.

"They introduced themselves as Tachibana and Kirihara, and they were there representing Tengi Gas Enterprise," replied Sanada. "They claimed to be there to investigate a gas leak. The Tengi Gas Enterprise has confirmed this to be true."

The lady frowned. "Does this mean it was an accident?"

"I have reason to believe that it was not," said Sanada. "For one, although the names Kirihara Yuya and Tachibana Kimura appeared in the Tengi Gas Enterprise database, we could find no records of such people in the governmental database. They would appear to be false personas."

The couple exchanged glances, clearly unsure. "Is that so?" The lady smiled weakly.

Sanada nodded firmly. "In addition, none of the Tengi Gas Enterprise managers and employees knows either of these two workers. When shown images, they all denied contact or knowledge of them. This only serves to confirm that they were impostors."

"I see," said the man slowly. "So, have you been able to trace them?"

"My department and I are trying our best," replied Sanada, meeting his father-in-law's gaze directly. "We will apprehend the criminal as soon as we are able."

"See that you do." The older man gave his son-in-law a piercing stare, then nodded to his wife. "We will not keep you from your parents any longer."

"Thank you for the information you have shared with us." His wife smiled at Sanada shakily. "We understand that you have done all that in your ability to protect our daughter. We do not blame you or your clan for the actions of this arsonist."

"No, thank you for allowing me to redeem myself.." Sanada hated the smoothly polite words he was using now. It really wasn't _him_. He could perfectly imagine the two Oshitari siblings, Yuushi and Yuuki, spouting them effortlessly – there was a certain smoothness that came naturally to the Oshitaris. Not to the Sanada clan, though – it never came easily to him.

The memory of Yukimura sitting in his family lounge among the clan members, speaking effortlessly with all those around him, interacting flawlessly while Sanada stood by, just enjoying the sight of his lover among his family –

Sanada stamped on the memory, hard. This was the worst possible time to think of such things! He cast around for a distraction – the two seats next to him were still empty; most people had returned to the buffet table for seconds. With only the slightest bit of hesitation, he headed for that place.

Only when he was about the pick up a new plate did he remember that most of his food remained untouched. Sanada was never one for wasting; he replaced the plate and went to get a drink instead.

Normally he stuck to plain water or tea. When he really needed the caffeine, he took some coffee. He avoided alcoholic drinks on principle. Yet, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he reached out and snagged a tall goblet of deep red wine from a passing waitress. The short, mulberry-haired girl smiled and bobbed a curtsey at him before moving off through the crowd.

Polite, he mused. Oshitari must have handpicked them.

Returning to his seat, he drank deeply. How long had it been since he'd had wine…?

Across the table, Oshitari Yuushi raised his goblet as if toasting him. With a grim smile, Sanada raised his goblet in return, and drained it dry.

* * *

Just outside the door, Gakuto grinned. Sanada had taken the drunk. Now he'd better get out of the place before Yuushi realized that he'd been there.

"Well?" Turning, he saw Ryoma. "Did he drink it?"

"Yeah." The redhead glanced at his tray full of drugged drinks. "Hope it was enough, though. Must've been pretty diluted."

"Ayase said it doesn't have to be taken in large amounts," replied the younger male. "You go change out of that. I'll chuck these down the sink."

"Right." Gakuto passed his fellow conspirator (though Ryoma probably didn't know what exactly he was conspiring for) the tray and headed off to the laundry room, where they'd obtained the maid outfit.

On his way, he was suddenly tugged into an alcove. He suppressed a gasp, panic welling as he wondered if they'd been discovered. Then a voice whispered into his ear, and he relaxed. "Now, why didn't you tell me you wanted to come along? Though I'm not complaining about your outfit in the least. It suits you very well."

"Yuushi," breathed the redhead, sagging as if boneless in his relief. He wasn't going to die at the hands of Niou and Yukimura!

The taller man spun him around and kissed him, deeply, until he was not only boneless but breathless as well. "Oh, I _like_ this outfit," he informed Gakuto, smiling appreciatively. "You should wear it more often. Or perhaps we should look around for nurse and nun outfits too."

"Pervert!" the shorter male accused.

Yuushi's only reaction was a deep chuckle that vibrated in his chest, making Gakuto shiver pleasurably. "It's your own fault for fuelling my perverted fantasies." Before the redhead could protest, he kissed him again, hands wandering under the skirt of the maid outfit.

Gakuto slapped his hands away ineffectually, cheeks flushing bright red. "Y-Yuushi, you gotta go back," he stammered, trying to conceal the fact that he _really_ wanted the blunette to finish what he'd started. "I – I don't want you to get in trouble –"

"Don't worry about them," whispered Yuushi, his breath hot on Gakuto's skin. "They can wait. _This_ can't."

Gakuto never knew lace and aprons could be used quite so imaginatively.

* * *

"Saa… you made sure?" Fuji lay on one side, his cell phone on the floor a few inches away set on speaker. "You saw it?"

"I saw him take the drink, and Mukahi said that he saw Sanada drink it all," came Ryoma's voice in reply. "I don't see why he'd lie about it."

"Okay." Mukahi Gakuto was one of Yukimura's, which was why he'd pointed the redhead out to Ryoma as a good target. He was also Oshitari Yuushi's current squeeze, giving him a reason to be present at the dinner. It wouldn't hold up very well, but if the Oshitari heir came to his defense, nobody would be able to say much.

Ryoma had helped get the uniform and find the event hall, then found some of the most potent alcoholic drinks available in Atobe's personal store and procured it for their use. Fuji smiled to himself – the boy really was quite useful.

Now for the next part, the most difficult by his reckoning. "Ne, Ryoma?"

"Mm?"

"I need you to keep an eye on Sanada. Since you diluted it so much, he may not have had enough. If that's so, you and Gakuto will have to dose him again," explained the Akasagi. "Watch him even after the party. I'll have someone in his rooms ready for him; make sure he gets there safely."

"Oh… We threw away most of the other drinks…" Ryoma sounded vaguely sheepish.

"Well, two glasses of the concentration you first gave him would be enough, I believe. Do you have some left?" Fuji's eyes were open now, albeit the other male couldn't see him. If there was not enough of the chemical in Sanada's system, it would put paid to all their carefully laid plans.

"…Yes, there's some left," came the reply at last. "I'll watch him, don't worry."

The Akasagi grinned. "Great! Thanks so much, Ryo-chan!"

"Don't call me that," grumbled the golden-eyed male.

"Why ever not? It's suits you so well," teased Fuji. "Good luck!" Before Ryoma could protest, he pressed the 'End Call' button and cut him off.

Sitting up, the Akasagi rubbed his hands, eyes sparkling in anticipation. How best to get to the scene of action?

* * *

The rest of the dinner passed as Sanada had expected it to. People from both families continually dropped by to 'have a word' with him, mostly inquiring as to the reason behind Yuuki's death and how he felt about it. As far as he could tell, Yuushi at the other end of the table was getting a similar treatment. The chairs on either side of them were filled by new people every ten minutes or so.

At last it was over. As he left the room, having made his farewells to the important members of each family as appropriate, he couldn't help heaving a sigh of relief. He was having a terrible headache from all the socializing, and for some reason, his body felt oddly hot, and he was lightheaded. Perhaps he was getting a fever…?

It took all of his effort to walk steadily. He somehow managed to make his way to part of the palace a fair distance from the banquet hall they had been using before collapsing against the wall. His breath was coming in gasps; sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped from his chin. He felt simultaneously highly aware of his surroundings yet dazed and confused. His eyes were having difficulty focusing; he could feel the blood throbbing in his ears, much faster than usual.

This wasn't the effect of simple alcohol. Somehow, somewhere in the deepest reaches of his mind, he realized that something was very, very wrong with him.

Something – someone – moved. Sanada stared at the person – he was quite sure it was a person – blindly, unable to do more than pant, clinging to the wall for support.

"Umm…" The person came closer. He didn't recognize the voice; he didn't think he'd be able to recognize his own mother's voice at that moment. "Sanada?"

He managed to nod.

The person continued to look at him, barely three feet away, back to the light. Sanada couldn't even tell if the person was male or female. He _could_ tell that the person was shorter than he was. "You…" he choked, "help… me…"

A pause. Then the person closed the distance, taking his arm. "Hurry up. You need to get back to your rooms."

The touch was like an electric shock to his senses. Suddenly everything was crystal clear; he saw that his helper was a young man, barely more than a boy, with dark hair and gold eyes. He saw the slow flutter of eyelashes as the boy blinked, heard the breath coming smoothly from those pale, curved lips, smelled the faint scent of clean clothes and expensive wine from his skin…

A strong, carnal urge roared up within him, completely foreign, overwhelming what control he still had over his malfunctioning body. His hands grabbed the younger male by both shoulders and slammed him against the wall in his place. He pinned the boy there, eyes staring glassily at him. One part of him – he wasn't sure which part – appreciated the way the smaller male coughed from the impact, golden eyes wide and frightened, breath coming faster as he struggled in the iron grip. "What –"

A long way away, the part of him that was still sane realized that he was aroused, painfully so, and was duly horrified. The rest of him, no longer sane, noted this with a satisfaction, and proceeded to take care of it in the most convenient way available at that moment.

* * *

Fuji grinned as Ryoma's screams echoed in the deserted corridor. _Perfect. Just perfect._

It had taken him a while to locate the pair, but now that he had, he debated whether to pull out his cell phone and video the whole scene. It would be excellent blackmail material, for sure.

But really, he had to give Sanada credit. The man had had enough control to get this far from the banquet hall the Oshitaris and Sanadas had previously occupied. Not only that, but he'd managed to choose such a wonderful location too. It was one of the few places in the palace, close to the events and entertainment area (the wing that housed the banquet halls, audience chambers, ballrooms and other locations for large-scale events), that was generally deserted at this time of the night. The sports wing.

Perhaps it was just coincidence, but Sanada had chosen an indoor tennis court to carry out his dirty business.

When he saw the blood and seed drip onto the floor, Fuji decided that Sanada and Ryoma could be trusted to finish the business themselves. This was certainly good enough for Atobe.

* * *

"Ne, Uncle Shiraishi, I'm bored," announced Kintaro. "I want to play tennis!"

"Well, _I_ don't," retorted the doctor. "It's already eleven! Go bother Chitose instead."

"No! I wanna play with Uncle Shiraishi!" insisted the noisy ten-year-old.

Shiraishi sighed. "For the last time, just because you actually _are_ my nephew does _not_ mean that you get to refer to me as _uncle_. It makes me feel very old."

"Kiddo still giving you trouble?" Chitose came in, grinning. "Now, Kin-chan, you must let your old Uncle rest a bit, or he won't be able to play tennis with you ever again."

"Oh… Sorry Uncle Shiraishi!"

"Chitose…" began Shiraishi ominously, as his colleague laughed. "Well! I expect that means that you're volunteering to play with Kin-chan in place of me."

Kintaro pouted. "No! I want to play with Uncle Shiraishi! I played with Uncle Chitose this morning!"

The blonde fixed his friend with a stern eye. "So _that_'s where you went to this morning. You know very well that Lady Tokito absolutely _needs_ to see dear Chitose-sensei when she comes for her check-ups."

"Which is precisely why I absented myself, or _I_ would be the one needing check-ups," replied the other man easily. "And Kin-chan would've brought five hapless inhabitants of this palace into your care as well because he was bored. I think it was a worthwhile payoff."

Shiraishi dragged the back of his hand over his eyes wearily. "_You_ didn't have to endure Tokito's whining."

"Play!" shouted Kintaro, tired of being ignored.

"Okay, okay, how about this? We _all_ go together," suggested Chitose. "You'll be able to make sure I don't get to bed early, and Kin-chan will let the rest of the world sleep in peace."

"Fine," sighed the doctor. "Let's go, then."

The journey to the tennis courts didn't take long. As it was still raining heavily, with no sign of stopping anytime soon, they headed for the indoor courts.

Entering the big hall, Shiraishi frowned. Although it was nearly pitch-dark, the unmistakable smell of sex permeated the air. He reached for the light switch.

The scene flickered into view. Two bodies, sprawled near the wall, covered with blood, semen and little more. "Oh, dear," whispered Chitose.

"Take Kin-chan away, Chitose," commanded the blonde, keeping his voice low.

"What's that? This place stinks – where are you going? Waaaah!" Kintaro's protests echoed in the huge room as Chitose practically dragged the boy away.

Shiraishi approached the pair slowly, his eyes raking the bodies. He had seen rape victims before. This was uncomfortably similar.

The noise made by Kintaro seemed to have woken one of them. Golden eyes jittered, then opened slowly, staring dully up at him.

Shiraishi looked down at the bruised and bloody Echizen Ryoma for a few moments, then let out a sigh of resignation. "Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

**A/N: OMG. Again. I did it again. I wrote a pairing I don't support. Oh god what the hell am I doing?! –bangs head—**

**-sigh- Really, this is for the sake of the plot. Or rather, this IS the plot. This was what Yukimura and Fuji were scheming for, as I'm sure you'd've realized after reading the Fuji bit there. What I'm particularly happy about is the fact that the Thrill Pair ends here. Smashed to pieces, actually. –crash-**

**This was pretty dull at the beginning, but I wanted to show how Sanada's suffering (because he deserves to, that idiot). To make up for that and the Boushi Pair, I indulged myself with the Dirty Pair and the little Shitenhouji bit at the end. Hope you enjoyed them and the Sanada-bashing ^^**

**We're coming towards the end of the ficcy already… I believe it should be done by chapter 16, if not then definitely before chapter 20. Just as well, too – I don't think I can keep up this pace long. I poured out this whole chapter in one day, and I'm super exhausted T.T but at least it's out!**

**Please Review! I appreciate all constructive criticism!**

**P.S. I just realized, when I was rereading this fic, that I mentioned Sanada's wife several chapters ago. I said that she was Oshitari Miya – Yuushi's cousin – back then, and completely forgot about it, giving her another name when she reappeared. I sincerely apologize for the mistake; I've never made such a stupid error before!**

_**P.P.S. On a completely different note, I recently got an immense plot bunny that refuses to let go of me. I can't write it, not when I haven't finished this or my KKM fic, plus the stupid 'O' levels, but it's begging to be written, and I haven't the heart to deny it.**_

_**Basically, it's a Liar Game AU for our beloved PoT characters. Liar Game is a J-drama whose second season finished showing at the end of last year, and it's one of the better J-dramas, at least in my opinion. If you've watched it, all the better. If you haven't, just check it up on Wiki. XD It's pretty self-explanatory – a game of lies, between liars. Only thing is, it has a big jackpot at stake. The Liar Game is organized by an uber-rich organization (Atobe might come in as the big boss) as a leisure pastime. It involves several stages of games, in which the players, who are loaned a certain sum of money at the beginning of each, try to win this money off each other. At the end of each stage, the loan must be returned to the syndicate and those who lose are kicked out. The losers must pay back whatever they lost during the game out of their own pocket, while the winners get to keep whatever surplus they cheated off the others to themselves. Sometimes they play as teams, sometimes as individuals. You can see the opportunity for traitors, can't you? Nobody knows who to trust.**_

_**So that's an overview of the game. I actually visualized it involving the Dirty Pair, but it might work just as well for Platinum or anything else you might like. Maybe even Thrill, if that's your cup of tea. Anyone who might want to take in this plot bunny, please let me know ^^ I'll be really happy if you do!**_

**And that's the end of the very, VERY long author's note. Thanks for reading this far! Again (in case you forgot in the process of reading all this), please review!**


	14. XIV Why

_**XIV – Why**_

_Tap-tap-tap._

[Your actions have proven me wrong. I am simultaneously awed and disgusted.]

{My deepest apologies for having upset you. Also, it was not my plan. Yukimura concocted this; he did not tell me the details until it was well under way.}

[If so, I respect Yukimura for this plan. Sanada is utterly disgraced.]

{That was our objective, after all.}

[It was an inspired blow. His career is in pieces; he will never recover from this.]

{Indeed, that is what we hoped. I believe I have won this game.}

[Not yet. Remember the original agreement. One must die before the game is over.]

{I see it was too much to hope that you would have forgotten. Very well then. We shall wait and see.}

_Hiss… Beep._

In two dark rooms in two different parts of the sleeping city, two similar men sighed and leaned back in their chairs.

The game was not over yet.

* * *

Atobe was livid. He paced the room like an angry tiger, not even trusting himself to look at the man kneeling in the middle for fear of completely losing control and strangling him.

"You." His voice shook with barely-controlled rage. "Tell me why I shouldn't have you sacked from your job, flayed like the criminal that you are and executed in the most painful way devised by man." He was so angry he'd forgotten to use his customary 'Ore-sama', reverting back to the normal 'I'.

Across the room, Jirou backed away slowly, heading for the door. The other officials present, noticing this, exchanged worried glances. If even Jirou was so scared of Atobe…

Atobe didn't normally get angry. He treated those who offended him with icy sarcasm and black humor, showing them how their struggles were so puny and inconsequential in the bigger scheme of things. It was a psychological torture, of sorts. The king never, repeat _never_, got angry at criminals, because he believed they were too foolish and unimportant to be worth getting into a temper over.

Now, though, Atobe wasn't just angry. He was incensed. He was a ticking time bomb, just waiting for a reason to blow up the criminal kneeling on the floor before him.

Sanada did not respond to Atobe's challenge; to answer back was to court death. He kept his eyes fixed on the polished marble tiles under him.

"Arn? You won't say anything in your defense?" The king stalked over to Sanada, grabbing a fistful of hair and jerking the other man's head up. "You don't mind being punished?"

"Um, Atobe-sama," interjected the defense lawyer hesitantly. "I believe I have already mentioned –"

"_Quiet_!" roared Atobe, dark silver eyes flashing. "You will speak when you are spoken to!"

"Y-yes, Atobe-sama," agreed the other man, all but cowering in his seat. No lawyer with sense would challenge the king in his own court, and the unfortunate defense lawyer (a newly arrived barrister from Osaka) now understood why.

Sanada met his ruler's burning eyes squarely, ignoring the pain where Atobe tugged at his hair. There was nothing he could do in this situation except hope that the king would eventually cool off and, listen to the evidence and punish him as was due with a calm and objective mind.

Certainly, very little evidence stood for him, and the fact remained that he had assaulted and raped Echizen Ryoma, whether or not he had been in a stable state of mind. He would be punished, severely, even if it had been any other person. But it was Echizen Ryoma, the king's lover, and that meant that Atobe wasn't going to be especially forgiving.

In the first place, rape was not a crime that could be forgiven. Nobody would rape a person without that intention. Sanada being a policeman, he definitely knew that much.

He knew he hadn't been completely sane when committing the act, but he had no _proof_. The doctors had taken blood and urine tests from him and mentioned unnaturally high levels of testosterone, but that was normal in most rapists. Whoever had drugged him had made sure that the drug was undetectable.

"Sanada." Atobe was speaking again, dragging him back from the depths of his black depression. "Ore-sama has decided on a sentence fit for you, you _dirty_ insect, filthy _criminal_, _sick_ person. You will be imprisoned at forced labor for fifteen years, after which you will be exiled from Tengi to another part of Japan. Be grateful that the death sentence was abolished centuries ago, or Ore-sama would have made sure you received it. You are dismissed. I do not wish to see your face for the rest of my life, or you will get another term in jail, this time lifelong."

With that, the supreme ruler of Japan stalked out of the hall, still radiating near-palpable waves of fury.

The rest of the court exchanged glances as muttering began throughout the room. Sanada stayed where he was, not sure if a dismissal from Atobe was counted as a dismissal from the High Court. Finally, the judge remembered that he was still there and informed him, "You may go now to settle anything that needs settling. A guard will accompany you to ensure you do not try to escape."

At his gesture, a man in police uniform came forward. He was solidly built, but his nervously flitting eyes and badge revealed him to be a junior officer. "Fsshhh…" he hissed in greeting.

It was not with relief that the one-time Deputy Police Commissioner left the High Court with his new companion, but rather with despair and a feeling that things would only get worse.

* * *

"Well?" asked Fuji without preamble.

Yukimura grinned. He was so pleased with Sanada's downfall that he even felt up to playing with the Akasagi. "Well what?"

"Don't be coy. I completed the assignment. Now hand over Mizuki!" ordered the brunette.

:Maa, _you_ seem upset," observed Yukimura. "Might I assume that you have actually fallen for the boy Ryoma and are regretting –"

"What makes you think that?" Fuji's voice had suddenly recovered its composure. "Please, Yukimura, I am a professional. I do not make such idiotic mistakes. As it is, I am eager to get my hands on Mizuki and inform him of my displeasure."

"Painfully?" ventured the blunette.

"Very painfully," confirmed the Akasagi. "So, are you giving him to me?"

"Certainly. I have no reason to hold him any longer," replied Yukimura. "I will have him conveyed to you at once. Meanwhile, could I inquire as to how your police captive is doing?"

"Why should I tell you?" inquired Fuji, his tone carefully light.

"Because I'm curious?" suggested Yukimura, restraining a smile. He had found the problem.

"That's not good enough," admonished the brunette. "If that's all, I'll excuse myself now…"

"I have enjoyed our association." Yukimura inspected his nails. "Thank you very much."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "Ah. I see. Well, it was nice working with you."

The blunette smiled. "Goodbye."

He pressed the button to end the holographic call. _Goodbye…_

* * *

Niou sighed. "Yes, as I just repeated for the _third_ time, I would like the two of you to bring dear Mizuki and his little boy-toys home to Tengi, specifically to the Fuji residence."

"B-but Niou-san!"

"But what? Is there something I should know about? If it's about you and Shinji getting off each other, that's pretty old news. I don't care how much fun you're having together, Mizuki and Yuuta are coming back to Tengi. After that, you two can do whatever you want, as long as it's not in my presence." Niou paused, grinning. "No, actually you can do it in my presence if I have my video camera to film the whole thing. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful –"

"Alright, alright! Fine! Just… shut up!" cried Kamio, sounding horrified. "Um, Shinji –"

Ibu's voice broke in. "Listening to Mizuki and his companions is very interesting for both of us. I will be sad that this is over. We will have to come up with ideas on our own. That will be rather difficult, but I guess we have no choice. Our job was after all to apprehend them until you asked."

Ignoring Kamio's unmanly shrieks of protest throughout the blunette's speech, Niou said, "Precisely. Please bring them back by tonight, or you can look forward to some of my own special brand of punishment."

"Yes sir, Niou-san," agreed the pair at once. Although the silver-haired trickster couldn't see them, he could almost feel their shudder of fear at the torture he had implied.

"See to it." Niou put down the phone, smiling broadly. So _that_ little project had gone well.

* * *

Yukimura rested a hand on Yanagi's shoulder. "You know what I want to do, don't you?"

The data master nodded. "Yes. As before, I strongly advise you against it. Sanada is not worth it."

"You always say that, even knowing that I will not be persuaded," remarked the blunette. "Is there something I should know?"

"Sanada has been sentenced to fifteen years in jail, followed by exile from Tengi," replied Yanagi promptly.

Yukimura smiled slightly. "You know I didn't mean that. But that is good news in its own right."

"What do you propose?" asked the brunette.

"We'll have to take him before he goes to prison. I believe that can be left to Akaya. Let him know immediately; we don't have much time," said Yukimura. "I'd rather not have to break him out of prison. He isn't worth _that_."

Yanagi sighed. "If you say so."

* * *

Sanada's intuition was not wrong. It rarely was. He had known, right from the beginning, that things would end up this way.

"Genichirou…" His mother's voice was clogged as tears rolled silently down her cheeks. "Oh, Genichirou, how could you?!"

His father, meanwhile, was pacing up and down the room in an uncomfortably similar manner to Atobe earlier in the High Court. He had yet to speak.

"I am sorry," apologized Sanada junior for the _n_th time. "I know I am beyond redemption, but I am still sorry. I never intended to do this."

"Well, if you didn't, then _why_ did you do it?" Sanada senior's sounded calm, but his son could hear the iron control in his voice.

"I was drugged." When his father shot him a sharp look, Sanada junior continued, "You don't believe me, but it is true. I was drugged. I could tell something was wrong with me before the… incident. I was trying to head back to my rooms when…"

"The medical results?" asked the older man tersely.

"Negative," replied his son. "I have only my testimony against that of the witnesses. All claim that I was acting on my own volition."

"Oh, Genichirou," whimpered his mother again, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Enough." Sanada senior stopped his pacing, halting directly in front of his son. "Genichirou, you have brought dishonor on the Sanada family name. You have shamed us beyond belief. It will be decades before this disgrace, this smirch on our clan, this stain on the honor and dignity we have built up for centuries will fade."

Sanada junior stayed silent. There was, after all, nothing more he could say, nothing he could ask, because all had been said, all that would come, he already knew. In the corner of the room, the young police officer – Kaidoh, according to his badge – stood, watching everything without comment.

"I hereby disown you, Sanada Genichirou," pronounced his father. "You are no longer my son. You will no longer bear the name of Sanada. You can no longer call this house your home. Leave as soon as you have collected what remain of your belongings, and never show your face here again."

"Yes, Sanada-san," answered the younger man woodenly. "I will take my leave now."

As he went to collect the last remains of his property, Sanada thought back dully on the terrible day he had been through. After that ordeal at the High Court, he had returned to his office in the police department to collect his belongings there. The people there had all avoided him like the plague, as though scared that he would jump them. He had walked through them all with his head held high – even though he had little pride left, he would still preserve his dignity.

Upon entering his office, Inui had barely even glanced up. His last words to his former boss were, "These people are smart."

And that had been it. The end of his career, which had just begun to take flight. The end of his life, as it was. For what could he do now? With a criminal record, few respectable firms would employ him.

At least he need not think of that now. For the moment, he was going to enjoy fifteen years of police hospital in prison.

Having collected his belongings, he headed back to the room where he had spoken to his parents. Both of them were still there.

"I will be leaving now," he told them.

His father nodded curtly; his mother wept a little harder. Sanada bowed to them – this was the last moment they were parent and child – and then rigidly turned his back, walking out of the house that had once been his home.

* * *

"I _told_ you," fumed Atsushi. "But _no_, you were _so_ sure that there couldn't' possibly be people after us!"

"Now, Atsushi, just calm down. I'm sure there's just a little misunderstanding," cooed Mizuki. "It'll be fine, just you wait and see."

"It _won't_ be fine!" cried the other male, quite unaware of how like a bitchy, angsty teenage girl he sounded like. "Didn't you hear them? They said they were taking us to the Fuji residence!"

"So what? Fuji-kun probably only wants to thank me for taking care of his little brother all this time," declared Mizuki. "Right, Yuuta?"

Yuuta, still in shock, did not reply.

"If _that_'s so, then why would we be _tied up_ and thrown into the back of a van like this?!" demanded Atsushi, gesturing as wildly as he could with his head because the rest of his appendages were restrained as mentioned above. "This is abduction, no less! And unless I'm much mistaken –"

"Unless you're mistaken?" prompted Mizuki, with an angelic smile.

"… Nothing," mumbled the other male. He had been about to mention his brother, but now didn't seem like the right time.

"Oh no, but I want to hear," said Mizuki, his smile widening. It didn't look so angelic now. "What did you want to say, Atsushi?"

"Just… Yuuta's brother is scary." Atsushi chewed on his lower lip. "I don't want to see him as angry as he'll be."

"He won't be," repeated Mizuki. "I'm sure the elder Fuji is as sweet as his little brother. Isn't that so, Yuuta?"

Yuuta drew breath, apparently recovered. "We're dead, Mizuki-san. We're just as dead as we could be without being dragged straight to hell."

The back of the van was silent for a few seconds. Then, "I told you so," said Atsushi miserably.

Mizuki didn't even try to disclaim that.

* * *

Tezuka was gone, and Fuji was in a towering rage. His anger wasn't the fiery kind, but the icy kind – the kind that froze everything in its range out of sheer terror. "What happened?" he inquired coolly.

"I was with Tezuka the whole day today," began the ninja, fear-sweat beading on his forehead and dripping uncomfortably down his back. "Before dinner, I went to the restroom. When I returned to the room with our food, Tezuka was gone. His chains weren't forced – he must have found a way to open them, I'm not too sure what."

"Why wasn't he apprehended by the rest of your clan when he tried to leave?" asked the brunette politely.

Saeki wiped sweat out of his eyes. "It was dinnertime. The whole clan was at dinner. Kirihara's arson attack on Sanada's house had been carried out a couple of days ago, so we weren't on high alert."

"I see." Fuji was smiling, but Saeki wasn't at all reassured. "So, you admit you and your clan were not alert enough to prevent the escape of a person who is completely unfamiliar with this house and its grounds, not least to say that this person has no knowledge of the security in this place."

"Our securities are mainly to prevent intruders, not escapees," explained the ninja, wondering why he was bothering to argue. It only increased his chances of an excruciatingly painful punishment.

"Be that as it may…" The Akasagi closed his brilliant blue eyes, turning his head towards the windows. "I will think of a punishment for you all later. Have you searched for him?"

"Yes, we have," confirmed Saeki. "Ten pairs have been combing the city since we realized that he was gone. So far, none have reported seeing him."

Fuji nodded slowly. "Very well. Continue doing that. And Saeki…"

"Yes?" The ninja bit his lip, forbidding fear to enter his voice.

"You know I wanted him. Do not expect to be let off lightly," stated the brunette. "You are dismissed. I expect him to be found and brought back by the time I wake up tomorrow morning."

"As you say." Saeki bowed, and did not straighten until his master had left the room.

He heaved a sigh of relief. They had until tomorrow morning to find the missing police officer. At least the Akasagi hadn't said _tonight_. It was a grace period, of sorts.

"Saeki?" That voice was Kurobane. "How long do we have?"

"Till Syuusuke wake up tomorrow morning," answered the aqua-eyed ninja grimly. "We'd best start looking harder."

"Where should the rest of us search?" This other voice was Ryou. "At this time, he isn't likely to be outdoors. We've already gone through the whole district."

"We have to start looking indoors too," replied Saeki, turning. "It's not going to be easy, but unless you want to have nightmares for months, let's get a move on."

* * *

**A/N: There! It's a tad shorter than the previous one, but I hope it rounds up the events that took place in the last chapter and set the stage for the finale of this story. Not that the next chapter is the last (I'm not too sure whether it is or not, yet O.o) but I think most of you should be able to guess what Yukimura is planning.**

**I personally enjoyed writing the Mizuki-Atsushi-Yuuta bit, as well as the Niou-Kamio-Shinji bit. It was really fun teasing Mizuki and Kamio… -evil laughter- And look, oh dear, Tezu-chan has made a break for it! Thanks to shourin for the idea (I hadn't originally intended to include it, but it somehow just… happened, you know? :-X) I wonder what he's going to do?**

**Rather a lot of Sanada-angsting going on; I hope it wasn't too over-the-top or boring. Sanada here is slightly modeled after Kuchiki Byakuya from Bleach (honor of the clan, anyone?), but that's only because I think it suits him. Doesn't it, maybe a bit too much? O.o**

**The next chappie might be some time in coming because I'm still not absolutely sure how to work the events I have planned for it. Please be patient; I don't want to drag too long either. :-X**

**Please Review!**


	15. XV Cherish

_**XV – Cherish**_

The walk back to the palace – and the prisons there – felt interminable. Sanada felt as though everyone on the gradually darkening streets was looking at him, accusing him of the crime he had not committed but could not prove himself innocent of.

At last, he could bear it no more. Turning to his silent companion, Sanada ventured a smile. It felt more like a grimace, even to him. "Do you mind if we kept off the main roads? I would appreciate the privacy."

Kaidoh stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded curtly and veered off the main thoroughfare, heading for a smaller path that Sanada recognized would lead them to a gate to the police buildings in the palace. The older man felt relieved; for some reason he'd felt very exposed out on the main road.

Suddenly, a shadow separated from its companions and moved towards them. Kaidoh's hand leapt for his gun; he dropped into a guard position. Even in this state, Sanada could appreciate the younger man's training. "Who are you? Don't move or I'll shoot," warned Kaidoh.

"It's me. Tezuka," answered the person. He came into the spot of light cast by the street lamp, and Kaidoh relaxed at once. Sanada too recognized the bespectacled sergeant.

"T-tezuka-san!" Kaidoh seemed rather flustered. "You're… back…"

"Yes." Tezuka didn't bother to explain his sudden reappearance after weeks of absence. "Sanada-san, I heard what happened. I think I have enough evidence to free you."

Sanada blinked, unable to process this unexpected information. "Evidence?"

Tezuka nodded. "I know who burned your house, and who the mastermind behind the Kurosagi case is. The person who kidnapped me was an acquaintance and accomplice of them. In fact, he may be the one who drugged you. I believe I am correct in assuming that you were drugged?"

"Yes," confirmed the older man, not quite able to believe that there was a chance to redeem himself after his world had come crashing down around his ears just a few hours ago. "Who is this person?"

"The mastermind's name is Yukimura. The man who captured me was called Syuu–"

A gunshot rang out, and blood spurted from the young sergeant's throat.

"Tezuka-san!" Kaidoh spun around, raising his gun again.

He was too slow. Another shot echoed in the dimly-lit street, and a dark flower burst into bloom on Kaidoh's jacket front. The younger man collapsed, dead before he hit the ground, blood mingling with that of his fallen superior.

"So much for hoping, eh, Sanada?" commented someone, blackly triumphant. From the shadows emerged a young man with curly dark hair, grinning widely. He was clad all in a strange black material that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. One eye was bright green; the other was an equally bright orange.

Sanada tensed. This was the person who had murdered his wife – Yukimura's lackey. "I doubt if Yukimura intends to kill me."

"You're right there," agreed the younger man. "Killing is too simple. Humiliation – now, _that_'s something to enjoy doing to the ones you hate."

Sanada did not answer, keeping one eye on the other while racking is brains for any escape routes he might remember concerning this path. _Why_ had he been so foolish as to avoid the main roads?!

The curly-haired youth licked his lips, slowly and luxuriously. "Ahh… Yukimura's waiting for you, you know. We shouldn't keep him waiting." He drew closer, stepping carelessly in the spreading pool of blood and leaving tracks etched in red. "Come on. If you don't put up a fight, it'll go easier…. But then I'll be deprived of a chance to beat you up, wouldn't I?"

"Why did you kill them?" asked Sanada, keeping his distance. "They didn't do anything to Yukimura."

"Maybe so, but they know too much about the truth," explained the youth. "And besides, I just _felt_ like killing Tezu-chan there. After all, it'd be funny to see Fuji's reaction to one of his playthings killing another." He laughed, maniacally. Now that he was closer, Sanada could see that what would normally have been the whites of his eyes were red.

"You're mad," observed Sanada, stalling for time. They weren't _that_ far from the entrance of the road. If he could just keep the boy talking…

"Am I? Well, so are you," replied the younger man easily. "Anyone who'd dare to do something to make Yukimura-san _that_ angry has to be mad. And if you're thinking of making a run for it? Don't bother. I've companions waiting for you to run into their arms at the entrance to this path."

"I wasn't planning to escape. Where could I go?" Sanada ignored the sinking feeling overtaking him. He should have known better. This _was_ Yukimura's operation.

"That's a good boy," teased the youth. "Now come along with me. We're off to hell."

Watching the younger man lick blood off his fingers with obvious relish, Sanada had no trouble believing his words. What awaited him could be nothing less than hell.

That was his last thought before something hard met his temple at high speed, effectively sending him into black oblivion.

* * *

"Killed?!" Fuji whirled around to face him, eyes blazing. "Why? How? Where?"

"Kirihara Akaya killed him. I saw it myself," answered Saeki, feeling extremely tired. Keeping up with Fuji Syuusuke was hard work, mentally and physically. "A direct shot to the throat. There was no way he could survive. He shot Tezuka, the other policeman accompanying Sanada, then took Sanada away."

The Akasagi sat down hard. "Well." He was silent for a few seconds; Saeki did not interrupt, not sure of how his friend and master would react. At last, the brunette sighed. "Akaya always did have anger issues. He knew about Tezuka?"

Saeki barely restrained himself from squirming. "Actually…"

"Ah. That explains it," Fuji smiled slightly. "I imagine he was jealous that someone else had found his way into my affections. Well, that just goes to show that in spite of what he says, he does have feelings for me. It's nice to feel so loved."

"You're… not angry?" ventured the ninja, surprised by the brunette's mild reaction.

The Akasagi tilted his head inquiringly. "No. Should I be?"

"But Tezuka…" Saeki trailed off, not quite sure how to continue.

"He was interesting, yes, but I can do without him. My only regret is not getting to break that mask of his myself," mused his master. "It would have been very enjoyable. But for now, there are more important matters. Yukimura said that Yuuta should be home about now… do keep an eye out for him, will you?" Smiling sweetly, Fuji walked out of the room, leaving Saeki quite nonplussed.

* * *

Yukimura regarded the object on the table before him. There it lay, innocent, gleaming silver in the faint moonlight. So small, yet so very dangerous…

A knock and the sound of the door opening shook him from his reverie. "Yukimura, Kirihara is back with Sanada. What do you want to do with him?" asked Yanagi.

"Lock him up somewhere out of sight. I'll deal with him in the morning," replied the blunette carelessly, standing up. With a last look at the thing that lay on the table, he followed his friend out.

"You shouldn't do this," the data master informed him. "It does nobody any good."

"What are you talking about? If you mean finishing Sanada, I must say that I don't agree. Getting rid of Sanada would be doing the world a service," said Yukimura blithely. "Apart from that, I have no idea what you might be warning me against."

Yanagi sighed. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

"Well, if that's the case, you should also know that nothing you say will make a difference," his friend pointed out. "Anyway, I'm interested to know how Akaya kidnapped Sanada."

"Don't change the subject," protested the brunette. "I am truly concerned you, Yukimura."

"And I appreciate that concern, dear friend," Yukimura trilled. "But that aside, I _would_ like to ask Akaya about his little adventure. Let's put this topic off for discussion at a more convenient time."

"Yukimura –" began Yanagi, refusing to give up without a fight.

"Oh, and don't let Akaya or Bunta get a whiff of it, I doubt they can handle it, and I'd rather not handle _them_ in the state they'll get into. Thanks!" Smiling brilliantly, the blunette sailed down the rest of the corridor into the lounge.

Yanagi shook his head, highly dissatisfied with his companion. Clearly Yukimura wasn't going to listen to reason.

"Akaya!" Yukimura's voice was delighted, almost childishly so. "Come, sit down and tell me what happened. It must've been _terrible_. All that blood!"

Kirihara practically puffed up. "Yeah, it was pretty awesome. I shot the policemen with him, and the blood kind of got everywhere."

"Of course, you don't mind that, do you?" The blunette smiled. "It suits you – the bloodstained, battle-worn look."

That made the younger male blush. "Do you really think so?"

"Mura-san, you can't say such things!" admonished Marui. "Now you've inflated his already impossibly huge ego. Nobody would be able to live with him for weeks."

Yukimura laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Yanagi watched the scene with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It might be the last; he should appreciate it while he could.

* * *

"You idiot!" Ryou punctuated his accusation with a resounding slap to his twin's face. "Do you have _any_ idea how worried we all were? Did you ever _consider_ how we – how _I_ – might have felt at your departure? Do you have the _slightest_ inkling of how _horrific_ it is to find that you left us to become a _prostitute_?!"

Atsushi winced, both from the slap and the scolding. "I'm sorry, okay? But you'd never have agreed if I'd asked properly, anyway…"

"For good reason!" fumed the older twin. "Why, my _dear_ brother, _why_ did you choose _him_ over us – over me?"

"I… don't know." Atsushi averted his eyes. "I really don't. He's very… persuasive, I guess."

Ryou was not at all satisfied with this answer. "Did you _know_ that you were going to become a – a brothel worker when you went with him?!"

"No," admitted his younger brother. "It was just…" He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Call it hypnosis, call it enchantment, call it mind-control, but I have no idea how he managed to get me to follow him."

The elder eyed his twin suspiciously. "He didn't seduce you?"

Atsushi blushed. "Well… there was that, I guess, but I didn't go with just for _that_."

"Why do I not believe you?" Ryou snorted. "Huh. Have you any idea of the _shock_ I went through, finding your name in the palace pleasure house? It was… _terrible_. If Saeki hadn't…"

"Hadn't what?" prompted the younger, intrigued.

Ryou grimaced. The memory of the aqua-eyed ninja tying him up for the first few days until he bore more resemblance to a trussed chicken than to a human prisoner was not particularly pleasant. Saeki, remembering the long-haired male's ineptitude with rope techniques, had made sure that the bonds had involved every single one of the most complicated knots in a ninja's arsenal. He had stayed that way until the other ninja deemed him calm enough to be released. "Never mind."

"How strange… I feel as though you were talking about me a moment ago," commented Saeki, entering the room. "I wonder why?"

"You must be imagining things," declared Ryou at once. "I was scolding 'sushi here; you were the furthest thing from my mind."

The white-and-black-haired ninja gave him a quizzical look. "Well, if you say so, then it must be correct, mustn't it? Anyway, Fuji's started on Mizuki already. I heard a scream or two just now."

"Ouch… well, I _did_ warn Mizuki," muttered Atsushi, wincing at the thought of what tortures the Akasagi might be carrying out on the curly-haired male for 'kidnapping' Yuuta. "I even told him about the security cameras, but did he listen to me? No!"

"I'm not finished with you yet," admonished his older twin. "How could you have let that curly-haired bastard take away Yuuta as well?"

"The reports from Yukimura's people is that he was using the both of you as his pretty boy toys," remarked Saeki.

Ryou cringed at the thought. "Oh gods, 'sushi, even if you do choose that, you should've known better than to let him touch Yuuta, for his own sake. Fuji Syuusuke is as vengeful as Lucifer himself when it comes to Yuuta."

"I _know_," protested his younger brother. "I _warned_ him not to take Yuuta, but Yuuta practically _begged_ him to, and Mizuki certainly wasn't going to say no. He insisted that I was just being paranoid…"

"Well, his views are definitely in the process of being rearranged," observed Saeki wryly, as another piercing scream echoed through the ninjas' quarters.

* * *

Sanada came around slowly, his head throbbing in a disturbing counterpoint with his heartbeat. The room he opened his eyes on was bright, almost uncomfortably so with the unease that had woken up with him.

Sunlight poured in from a full-length glass window, throwing the dark bloodstains that spattered his clothes into sharp relief. He seemed to be in someone's study room, if the desk and books meant anything.

It was larger than a study room really needed to be, with a table and two chairs standing in the middle of the room as if for home tuition. The only thing that deviated from what one would expect from such a room was the thing that lay on the table. He pulled himself to his feet – he'd been sprawled ungracefully on the floor – to have a closer look.

It was a gun.

He blinked. It didn't look familiar to him; if anything it seemed vintage, something made a few centuries back. No guns nowadays were so bulky and unwieldy. No guns in the police force were ever so decoratively enameled and embossed. No guns he'd ever seen looked so impractical.

It was white with gold floral trim, inlaid with what seemed to be mother-of-pearl, and etched in gold were the tiny initials _Y.S._ & _S.G_. He had no doubt what they stood for, and what its purpose was.

This was the gun that would kill him.

Feeling suddenly nervous, he looked around the room, scrutinizing every inch. As far as he could tell, it was empty. Outside, the garden was a riot of summer blooms. Butterflies flitted among the bushes, bright points of color and life. The rain had stopped the night before, and it was a beautiful summer day. Too beautiful.

A beautiful day to die.

Frowning, he pressed his lips together. This was no time for him to be so fatalistic. He owed it to himself and to his pride to go down fighting.

He heard footsteps and tensed up at once. His hand moved towards the gun, but at the last moment froze, millimeters from it. Something in him recoiled at the thought of holding that gun. Gritting his teeth, he retracted his hand, instead folding it into a fist.

The door swung open, and Yukimura entered. He was smiling.

"Good morning, Genichirou. Did you sleep well last night?" His smile widened, showing teeth. "I trust our hospitality was to your taste."

"Just get it over with, Yukimura," growled Sanada. "I have no wish to be a part of your game any longer. If you want to kill me, so be it. I have nothing more to live for."

"You don't wish to play anymore? Why, the way you've been acting, I would have surely thought otherwise," the blunette mused. "You encouraged me all the way, my dear. Or do you deny it?"

"Deny what?" Sanada asked warily.

Yukimura sighed, drawing closer to him. "Deny that you were my lover. Deny that you promised to be mine. Deny that you vowed to stand by me no matter what. Deny that you knew it was in your power to let me live or die, and chose to let me die. Deny that you knew I loved you with my entire being."

As he'd come closer, Sanada had moved away, until his back hit the wall. Yukimura leaned against him, close enough that his breath tickled the other man's ears. Now, the blunette extended his tongue and licked the curve of Sanada's ear, slowly and luxuriously.

Sanada shivered, with disgust and something else he dared not acknowledge, and pushed the shorter male away with all his strength. "I do not deny any of those."

"Oh, so you don't. Wonderful. I see that we understand each other well." Yukimura smiled again. It wasn't a nice, friendly smile like the one he had been wearing earlier, not at all. If anything, it was the kind of smile a wolf wore when it knew its prey was defeated.

"Do have a seat," he invited, moving to the table in the middle of the room. With not a little trepidation, Sanada obeyed.

The blunette reached across the table and picked up the gun. "Genichirou, do you know what this is?"

"No," answered the other male guardedly.

"Really? I was sure you'd guess that it was a gun." Yukimura twittered. "Ah well, I see I expected too much of you."

Sanada did not appreciate being made fun of, even by the man who was probably going to put a bullet through his head within the hour. He scowled. "I know it's a gun."

"Do you? Well, good for you." The blunette smiled indulgently. "It's a vintage gun I had made not too long ago, when this game began. It's called a revolver."

The name was vaguely familiar. Sanada searched his memory for it. "Ah. The sixteenth century firearm, one of the first gun designs. Reduced in popularity around the nineteenth century." Police were required to learn about the history of firearms, and Sanada had always been good at it.

Yukimura twittered again. "Very good. You may even be as good as Renji one day. Sadly, we'll never know." His smile was somehow ominous.

Sanada grunted. "Get on with it."

"If you say so. I believe you know how to play _shiritori_?" It was not a question. "I'd like a few rounds with you, Genichirou. For old times' sake."

The other man frowned. _Shiritori_ was not an uncommon game, and they had played it often. Still, he couldn't shake his feeling of unease. Yet there was no way to refuse. "Very well."

Yukimura favored him with a brilliant smile. "I knew you'd agree. I couldn't let you go without another round of _shiritori_, you know. But to up the adrenaline, I thought it'd be fun to make the loser shoot himself with this." He indicated the revolver. "There's only one bullet in there, and even I don't know where it is. Let's just play until one of us dies."

He had been right. There _was_ a catch. Yukimura wasn't even going to deign to dirty his hands in killing him himself – he was going to force Sanada to commit suicide. To Sanada, this was the ultimate humiliation, the complete eradication of his pride.

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying not to make it a Russian Roulette like Feyren's awesome Dirty Pair fic, because that'd be copying and since a number of you are reading both our fics, it'd be pretty boring too. But I wanted the **_**Yukimura doesn't even want to lower himself to kill Sanada, and instead forces Sanada to commit suicide**_** thing, and I couldn't come up with anything better than this. Oh my shit, the ending should be better than this, but nothing's coming up. My brain is dead beat. Sorry :-X**

**I'm not very sure how I feel about this chapter, really. It was one of the easy-to-write chapters, where things just seem to happen on their own and pour out onto the page, but when I read it again, the killing of Tezuka is rather abrupt. Well, he had to die anyway… and I for one enjoyed the Kirihara in that section.**

**Also, for the first time so far, I feel that Yukimura is OOC. I was pretty okay with him thus far, but somehow the way he's acting here is weird. Maybe because he's planning something weird… O.o By now I'm sure you can guess what he's up to, ne?**

**Please Review! Feedback is greatly appreciated and very inspiring!**


	16. XVI Forever

_**XVI – Forever**_

(Recap)

He had been right. There _was_ a catch. Yukimura wasn't even going to deign to dirty his hands in killing him himself – he was going to force Sanada to commit suicide. To Sanada, this was the ultimate humiliation, the complete eradication of his pride.

(End Recap)

_Until one of us dies._

There was no doubt in Sanada's mind about who was supposed to die. Yukimura never lost in _shiritori_.

The blunette leaned forward in his seat. "Well, then, let's start. Why did you choose her over me? E."

Sanada was taken aback by the unexpected attack and fumbled. "What –"

"You lose!" trilled Yukimura. "Dear me, Genichirou, how could you make such a blatant mistake? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to lose." He tittered, but his laughter left his eyes stone cold. "Go on, pick up the gun."

Slowly, feeling as though he were moving through thick, sticky syrup, the other man reached for the gun lying in the middle of the table. It was unexpectedly heavy for such a delicate, decorative-looking object.

"Put it at your head," urged the blunette. His eyes were filled with a sick anticipation.

Sanada obeyed, reluctantly. _It can't be loaded; he hasn't heard me out yet,_ his mind reasoned frantically. _It won't be, can't be loaded…_

He pulled the trigger.

There was an empty, echoing crack, and Sanada's ears rang for a long moment. But nothing happened. He was alive. There had been no bullet.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips, in spite of his resolution not to show weakness. Blood pounded his veins; every sensation was heightened. He had never loved life so much as now, when a single mistake might cause it to be raped, raw and bloody, from his unwilling body.

Yukimura leaned back, clearly disappointed. "Oh well. It wasn't loaded after all." Then he brightened. "Let's continue! It's your turn – E."

"E… everyone in my clan was discouraging me from staying with you," tried Sanada.

"U? Under those circumstances, you should still have stood up for your beliefs and yourself," retorted the blunette. "F."

"F – for the sake of the clan, I knew I should marry a girl, a noble, and… you were dying; there was no way I could succeed in persuading them," Sanada explained, feeling assaulted on all sides.

"M. My dear, whether you succeeded or not is not the point – it is whether you even tried," Yukimura pointed out. "D."

"D. Defying one's clan – if you're a noble, it's something that's just not done," muttered the other man. There it was again, the explaining away, the hiding behind rules. He despised himself.

"E – even for the sake of your lover?" Glancing up, Sanada thought he saw tears in the blunette's eyes. Then he caught himself. Yukimura couldn't possibly be crying.

"R? Results for such futile protestations would always be the same; I decided to spare us all the pain." Sanada cringed inwardly; his argument couldn't possibly stand.

"N. Never accept defeat – wasn't that your mantra?" prodded Yukimura. He definitely wasn't crying. His eyes glinted with the excitement of the hunt, the chase, with the promise of blood at the end.

"A. At that time, defeat was inevitable." It was getting worse and worse. Sanada almost wanted to be able to pull the trigger again, if only to bring an end to this torture. He felt as though each of his walls of defense were being torn down, one by one, systematically, with each question, each accusation.

Yukimura's expression was one of absolute distaste. "You disgusting _creature_," he hissed. "Why don't you just admit that you were scared of me, and be done with it?" He picked up the revolver, weighing it in his hand before bringing it up to his temple.

Even as he pulled the trigger, his eyes accused the other man.

Again, the loud but empty crack. Yukimura replaced the gun on the table, apparently quite unfazed. He fixed Sanada with blue, blue eyes, cold and relentless as a glacier, but also as wild and beautiful as one.

Sanada felt his mouth move of its own accord. "Your turn. E." More than anything else, Yukimura's decision to lose that round of _shiritori_ showed how much he felt the need to voice that particular angry outburst. Yukimura_ hated_ to lose.

"E." Yukimura twirled a lock of blue hair and smiled again, apparently having regained his composure. "Explain yourself."

Sweat beaded on Sanada's temples. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Yanagi was clearly upset. That made Marui and Kirihara upset too, because Yanagi was normally more unshakable than the best-built earthquake-resistant building in Japan. The pair exchanged worried glances as the data master paced the room, up and down, up and down, up and down…

"Um, Yanagi-san, please stop pacing," begged Marui. "You're wearing a groove in the floor, I swear it. And you're making Akaya dizzy, too."

"He shouldn't, he shouldn't, I'll lose the bet, but I can't stop him, he's set on it, there's nothing I can do, but I don't want to lose," muttered Yanagi, fretting. His steps increased in pace. Clearly he hadn't heard a word of what Marui had said.

"Please, Yanagi-san," entreated Kirihara. "You're freaking us out."

"Is something wrong with Yukimura?" asked Marui. "You've been like this since he went to see Sanada. Frankly I'm surprised not to have heard any screams yet."

Yanagi's head jerked up abruptly at Yukimura's name, and he stared wide-eyed at the redhead. Then he went back to pacing, but now wringing his hands as well. "It's not right, I can't tell you, he specifically said not to, oh god…"

"Yanagi," said Marui firmly, "you have to stop working yourself into swivets. Why don't you just have a sweet to calm down and then tell us what's the matter?" He generously offered a stick of his favorite bubblegum to emphasize his seriousness.

The data master completely ignored the bubblegum. Marui pouted. "Come on, Yanagi… we can't help if you don't tell us anything!"

"But you can't help, nobody can help, he won't change his mind!" exclaimed the brunette, obviously in great distress. "I tried, I've tried for so long, but he decided, and you know how stubborn he is, he won't listen…"

Kirihara blinked at the data master that Marui was carefully guiding to the sofa now that he was no longer pacing. "He, as in Yukimura?"

Yanagi sat obediently, apparently so far gone that he didn't even notice what he was doing. "I'm going to lose, but he's going to die too, so if we both lose, who wins?"

By this time both the redhead and the curly-haired youth were properly confused, but they didn't give up. "Who?"

"Yukimura, Inui, Sanada." The data master's normally calmly closed eyes were now wide open and wild. "I don't know anymore, the data doesn't make sense, it won't tell me anything, nothing makes sense, everyone will die!"

The pair glanced at each other, surprised by the brunette's sudden cryptic proclamation. Then Kirihara raised a fist and clobbered the older man over the head. Yanagi's eyes rolled up as he collapsed gracefully into Marui's hold.

"I think sleep's the best for him," declared Kirihara. Marui nodded in agreement, helping the youth to carry the unconscious man to his bedroom.

* * *

_Buzzz…_

[Congratulations for having abducted Sanada before we could secure him in jail.]

[Hello?]

[If both die, nobody wins. The game will have been for nothing. Make sure that one lives.]

[Things must be busy there, if you are not answering. That's fine. Just remember that one must live.]

_Buzz…_

The whirr of machinery sounded unaccountably lonely, echoing in the room without their master to listen and interpret them.

* * *

"G. Genichirou, you know that I can't let you live, for the pain you caused in me." Yukimura traced circles on the smooth wood surface of the tabletop. "E."

"E. Everything is my fault, I acknowledge it." Sanada's mouth was dry. "T."

The blunette raised a mocking eyebrow. "Then you will accept any punishment? T."

"There is no other way to atone for my mistakes, and I know better than to ask for mercy from you." It was true. Sanada prided himself on facing his challenges. The only challenge he had run away from was Yukimura, and that mistake was one that had cost him dearly.

"U." Yukimura considered for a moment. "Unless you beg for forgiveness, I cannot promise what I will and won't do. That's an O."

"O. On my honor, I will not beg."

"G. Given that it is you, I would have expected nothing less." The blunette got to his feet, smiling fiercely. "S."

Sanada too stood up, pushing back his chair. This was where things started getting dangerous. He'd been too mentally exhausted to avoid it for long, especially knowing that he would die either way. The only question was how. "So hurry up and do your worst, because I would rather die than live in the knowledge that I bowed my head to a psychotic criminal," he taunted. "L."

"Let it be imprinted in you that you know _nothing_ of me that might license you to pass such judgment on me, since it was _you_ who made me what I am." In a blink of an eye, Yukimura had him by the neck.

Sanada, reflexes slowed by the trauma of the previous night, had no way of escape from that sudden vice-grip. He choked, unable to breathe, let alone speak.

"One," counted the blunette, grinning maniacally at his prey's distress. "Two. Three."

Normal _shiritori_ rules stated that the players must answer within a certain time limit or it will be counted as a loss. In the games he used to play with Yukimura, the set time was a count of five. Sanada struggled to free himself before the time was up. The chance that the bullet was in the next barrel was high, and he didn't want to be forced to die by his own hand. He had more pride than that… right?

"Four. Five." The grin on Yukimura's face was unholy to say the least. 'Time's up, dear Genichirou. Take the gun." He shoved the other man away from him and pushed the ornate revolver into his face. "Go on. I'm sure I need not remind you that it was _you_ who asked for this, literally. Do not underestimate me."

Sanada needed no reminders. The last time he had underestimated the blunette, Yukimura had crawled back from the jaws of death to the embrace of life and come to haunt him as an insane criminal. Reluctant as he was, he took the gun.

_CRACK_.

Once more, it was empty. Sanada heaved a sigh of relief and made to return the gun to Yukimura.

That was a mistake. Yukimura's eyes suddenly narrowed into slits of hate, his face twisting into a terrible mask. "You…" His hand lashed out, hitting Sanada's face with unexpected force. Sanada went sprawling.

"I hate you!" shouted the blunette, hands curling into fists as he advanced on the fallen man. "You disgusting lowlife, you devil incarnate, you lying demon!"

Sanada instinctively protected his head as Yukimura lashed out at him with feet and fists. He had no idea what had provoked the blunette's sudden surge of anger, when he'd been so apparently composed not a minute ago. All he'd done was try to return the gun to him –

The gun.

He still held it, cradled in the protective hollow of his body as he curled up to minimize the damage to himself from Yukimura's blows. The initials engraved on it glinted up at him – _Y.S, S.G._...

A particularly vicious kick to his head made his vision spin and blur. His mind felt rattled like a small object in a large box on a rollercoaster. As if in response to these overwhelming physical reactions to the pain, his training took over, cool and commanding and completely out of his own control. His hand wrapped around the gun's handle as he stood, leveling it at Yukimura.

* * *

Yukimura stared at the gun, stepping back involuntarily. He had forgotten that Sanada still held the gun. The gun with only one bullet that may or may not be the in the next barrel. The gun that was currently aiming at him, point-blank.

He had been unable to help himself. The stupid man had offered the gun back to him after the failed shooting, and something in Yukimura had just snapped – because the look of heartfelt relief on his face was too much like what he had looked like when Yukimura had declared that he never wanted to see Sanada's face again in his life. It hurt too much, and what little control remained to him simply vanished like smoke in the wind.

He glanced at the gun again, then raised his gaze to meet Sanada's. "Oh, so you're going to shoot me? Do you have the guts for it, Genichirou? I doubt so! You didn't even have the guts to stand up to your own family – how could you have the courage to kill someone, the courage to bear the burden of murder?"

Sanada's stony gaze faltered; his hands trembled ever so slightly. Yukimura smiled condescendingly. "Did you not know that murder is a burden? Did you think it is easy to kill someone? Oh, but I forget – you killed me in every way but physical, but somehow it never became a burden for you."

The other man's mouth firmed and his trembling stilled. His finger twitched on the trigger.

Yukimura grinned, reckless. "Go on, kill me. I dare you to. Take responsibility for what you did. Kill me now and finish the job you started that time. Do you have the guts to do it, you pathetic, lying excuse for a man?"

"I…" Sanada's mouth moved, forming the words as though it was taking a long time for the signals from his brain to be translated into action. "I am a pathetic, lying excuse for a man who deserves to die for hurting one other person to the extent of insanity. But you too are a pathetic, lying excuse of a man who uses and hurts thousands of others in his pursuit of a dream that was never meant to be."

He pulled the trigger.

_BANG._

Blood splattered everywhere as Yukimura crumpled, the bullet having passed clean through his chest.

* * *

The sound of a gunshot brought Marui and Kirihara running to Yukimura's study, where he'd gone to 'have a chat' with Sanada. Discovering that the door was locked, Kirihara growled and slammed a fist at it in frustration. "Damn, what the hell is going on in there?!"

Marui bit his lip, thinking fast. "The window. We can break the window." Grabbing the younger male's hand, he charged out to the garden.

They found the full-length glass sliding doors of the study soon enough. Kirihara, highly agitated, didn't bother trying to open them. Instead, he threw himself bodily at the glass. His body was hard with muscle; when it met the glass, it was the glass that gave way. He tumbled into the study, shallow cuts from the broken glass forming bloody cobwebs on his skin. Marui followed, picking his way carefully through the red-spotted, sparkling shards.

Sanada stood there, staring straight ahead. Apparently the sudden shower of glass splinters from the breaking window had escaped his notice. A large bruise was starting to form on one side of his face, while the rest of him was already mottled with smaller bruises; his clothes were blood-spattered. In his hands was a white-and-gold gun. His mouth moved, haltingly. "Yukimura…"

On the floor before him, in a spreading pool of blood, lay Yukimura. His eyes were wide in what seemed to be surprise; his mouth was open in what looked to be the ghost of a laugh.

Kirihara took all this in with a glance, eyes lingering on the fallen Yukimura for a moment, before turning on Sanada. "You killed him," he accused.

Sanada's vague gaze slowly focused on the curly-haired youth. "I… killed him."

"_You killed him_," repeated Kirihara, his voice a low, ominous hiss. "You… _you_…"

Too late, Marui noticed that the youth's eyes had turned red. "Kirihara, wait –"

"_YOU_!!!" With a roar, Kirihara flung himself at the older man. Sanada, still in shock from Yukimura's death, never stood a chance. Kirihara hit him full-on, throwing them both to the floor slick with blood and glass. The youth, mad with rage, drew back a fist and drove it into Sanada's face with all the strength he possessed.

Yukimura had taken him in, looked after him, even cared for him in the way that was uniquely Yukimura. Yukimura had made him feel that life was worth living. Now Yukimura was dead, at the hands of this brute that had also scarred Yukimura for life. Kirihara's own considerable strength, magnified several times by his anger and sorrow, made that punch much, much more devastating than any other.

His fist drove right through Sanada's skull, crunching through bone to drive deep into the brain. They were pressed so close that, even through his blind rage, Kirihara could literally _feel_ the life flee Sanada's body.

There was a pause, in which Kirihara caught his breath. Then, as the red slowly faded from his eyes, he extricated himself from the bloody mess and shoved it away from himself, going to Yukimura's side instead to mourn. Wordlessly, Marui joined him.

Neither gave any further attention to the remains of Sanada's body.

* * *

Woken by the loud crashing and thumps rocking the house, Yanagi scrambled out of bed (how had he ended up there, anyway?) to go and investigate. Even as he headed for Yukimura's study, he struggled to dismiss the sinking feeling in his chest. Surely that wasn't Yukimura's death, surely it was Sanada's, surely, surely…

The door of the study was locked, but Yanagi was recognized by the fingerprint reader. It opened without much fuss.

The sight that greeted him confirmed his worst fears.

Yukimura was dead, more blood out of his body than inside it, with a clear puncture through the chest. Marui and Kirihara knelt beside the body, not caring that the blood was slowly soaking into their clothes, turning them a sickly shade of red. The glass sliding doors were smashed, bright shards glinting throughout the room. At one side was a bloody wreck of a body that Yanagi recognized was Sanada. He clenched his fists, forbidding his stomach from misbehaving at the sight of the raw bone and grey brain matter spilling onto the floor around the body.

"Why didn't you tell us?" That broken whisper was Kirihara's. The youth looked up at him, eyes glittering with tears. "Why? We could have stopped them! Yukimura shouldn't have died!" Surging to his feet, he grabbed the data master by the collar. "_Why_?!"

Yanagi sighed. "He was absolutely set on it. I tried, so many times, to persuade him… he refused to listen. He said, if I didn't let him try to do this alone, he would just kill himself and be done with it."

"We could have…" Kirihara's throat clogged; he coughed, trying to clear it. "Yukimura…"

"He wanted to die at Sanada's hand too, I think," continued the data master, employing his most emotionless voice in an attempt to stave off the anger and sorrow that was clawing at him from within. "He always said, because Sanada started the job, it had to be Sanada who finished it. Nothing I said could shift him. He was absolutely adamant on dying."

"Then… why did he go through all this, if he just wanted Sanada to kill him?" asked Marui, his voice rough.

"He wanted to make sure Sanada was remembered as a villain by the rest of society, and I have to admit that he's done a very good job of it. As it is, the whole plan was orchestrated on the base premise that they would meet and fight to the death at the end." Yanagi's lips tightened. "One could say that Sanada won the battle, but Yukimura won the war. Everything, including his death, happened as Yukimura wanted."

"Stupid," whispered Kirihara. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!" He slammed a fist into the floor, not noticing nor caring about the glass splinters that bit into his hand. "Dead is dead, no matter how you say it! Dead is… forever!"

Marui silently put an arm around the youth, offering him comfort; Kirihara leaned against the redhead, giving way to sobs that wracked his whole body.

Outside, a soft patter grew into a roar as the skies opened and rain began to fall.

* * *

**A/N: Oh dear me, I did kill them both. O.o I really planned for Yukimura to kill Sanada and then commit suicide, but somehow this is how things ended up. This seemed to fit in better. Please tell me what you think of it, since this is technically the last chapter of this fic. The next chapter will be an epilogue where I try to tie up whatever loose ends there are.**

**Sorry, I forgot to put this in the A/N in the last chapter. I hope everyone knows what **_**shiritori**_** is. It's a game where you must take the last letter of the sentence spoken by your partner and create a new sentence beginning with that letter. You must start speaking a certain time limit after your partner has finished (this is variable, of course). For this fic, I've made it such that they can construct only one complete sentence each time. Incidentally, a literal translation of **_**shiritori**_** is "taking the bottom", which is quite amusing when you think that Yukimura's especially good at it XD If you'd like to know more, there's always Wikipedia =)**

**I hope I've done this story justice and also that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. Thanks to everyone for your continued support of this fic!**

**Please Review! I truly appreciate feedback, especially as this is the (almost) last chapter!**


	17. Epilogue Sunadokei

_**Epilogue – Sunadokei (Hourglass)**_

They held a wake for Yukimura, two days after his death. Niou and Yagyuu came, as expected, as did Jackal. Yukimura's immediate family had all predeceased him; Yanagi conveniently neglected to notify any of his more distant relatives, so as to avoid the awkward explanations that were bound to come up.

Jackal, the gentleman and the trickster had barely made themselves comfortable when the doorbell rang again. Everyone exchanged puzzled looks as Yanagi went to answer the door.

Fuji Syuusuke stood on the doorstep, wearing his customary smile and an appropriately sober kimono. A step behind him was Saeki, and on his arm was a very disgruntled-looking Yuuta. "Hello," he said brightly. "You're holding the wake, yes?"

"Indeed we are." The data master raised an eyebrow at Yuuta. "Why did you bring your brother, knowing that?"

"I'm not letting Yuuta out of my sight for the next six months at least," replied the petite brunette, as though it was a perfectly sensible explanation. To him, it probably was. "Where I go, he goes too. That holds for Saeki as well."

Feeling obliged, Yanagi let the Akasagi into the house. "How did you know?"

"About what – his death or when you were holding the wake?" Fuji's smile widened, almost imperceptibly.

"Both." The data master led Fuji and his entourage to the lounge, where the rest were gathered.

Kirihara glared at the Akasagi as the group entered the room. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Why, paying my respects, of course," answered Fuji. "It _is_ a wake."

"How did you know?" demanded Marui sharply, which was unusual. The redhead was normally as fierce as pudding.

"I still have plenty of sources in the police," Fuji informed them all. "Inui received Sanada's body yesterday. As there was no congratulatory message of any sort, I assumed that Yukimura must have died too. It appears that I was right."

"What congratulatory message?" asked Niou, perking up.

Yanagi coughed. "Something private between Inui and myself."

"Oh? Do tell." The silver-haired trickster leaned back in his seat, taking a deep pull from his glass of vodka.

Fuji, who had taken a seat without invitation, grinned at the data master. "A wager?"

"No," denied Yanagi. "I wouldn't wager on something as important as this."

"Oh." Fuji looked sincerely disappointed. "I was so sure it was a wager."

"Not a wager… a competition?" suggested Niou, eyes sparkling. "Who would win – you and Yukimura, or him and Sanada?"

It was too close to the truth for Yanagi to deny without lying. He sighed.

"Bingo!" cheered the trickster. "I'm right, aren't I? You didn't deny it!"

"You are not wrong," conceded the data master. "I regret to say that neither side had a clear victory."

"So what happens now?" asked Fuji, sipping delicately from a flute of champagne that Saeki had poured for him. "Did Yukimura leave any instructions? I'm sure he must have known about you and Inui."

Yanagi drew himself up, affronted. "I am not so careless."

"You were careless enough, to let Yukimura die," Fuji reminded him, merciless. "But never mind. Let's just pretend that you have denied it with great vehemence and go on with our lives. I believe I am right in thinking that Yukimura left a will?"

"He did, but you came before Yanagi-san could read it for us," groused Kirihara.

Everyone looked at the data master, who didn't look very good after suffering Fuji's verbal blows. Yagyuu let out a resigned breath. "I'll be honored to read it in his place," he offered.

"Thanks, dear," said Niou, with a blindingly bright smile. Kirihara muttered unhappily while everyone else nodded assent.

Yagyuu took the paper from Yanagi's hands and looked over it. "It says here that he wants his body to be burned, and for the ashes to made chemically made into diamond," he informed everyone.

Marui blinked. "That's… kind of disgusting, no matter how you look at it."

"Better than being made into pencil lead," Niou pointed out, making the redhead grimace.

"It's a nice idea," Fuji said lightly. "To change the ugly shell of death for something beautiful and nearly everlasting. I like it. Did he say what kind of diamond – what kind of setting or piece?"

Yagyuu glanced back at the paper. "No, he did not specify… only that he wills it to Kirihara-kun."

Kirihara looked shocked. "B-but I can't! I'll lose it, or break it –"

"It's a diamond. It won't break," reminded Marui, overly patient. "And if it's Mura-san who says it, you'd better do it. Especially since it's his, well, last request."

"…Okay," agreed the curly-haired youth at last. "But I want Yanagi-san to take care of it for me."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," said Yanagi with a tiny smile.

"Just, you see, it's so important," explained the younger male. "I don't dare take care of it myself. Yanagi-san probably has awesome security stuff like industrial-sized safes or something to keep it safe."

"How about setting it in a ring and wearing it on a chain around your neck?" suggested Jackal. "You won't lose it that way."

"That sounds good," approved Marui, "And it isn't as weird as a ring on your fingers, which would just look like a wedding ring."

Kirihara sputtered at the thought. "That's just sick."

"It certainly is," agreed Niou. "A wedding ring whose diamond is made from a person's ashes?"

Yuuta looked mildly green around the gills. His brother, noticing this, looked reproachfully at the others. "Enough of that. Yuuta's getting sick. What else is there?"

"I'm _not_ sick," muttered Yuuta, but most didn't hear and those who did didn't believe him.

The gentleman looked at the paper again. "He wills this villa and the rest of his properties to Yanagi."

Nobody disputed that. Yanagi, looking happier, poured himself a glass of champagne. Niou took another swig of vodka.

Yagyuu glanced disapprovingly at his partner. "Please, Niou-kun, it's only noon. It is to my great regret to have to inform you that Yukimura wills all of his wines to you."

"Really? Great! I knew I could count on him to get his priorities straight," grinned the trickster, taking yet another deep pull just to irritate his partner.

Yagyuu ignored the silver-haired trickster's antics, instead proceeding on with the list. Yukimura willed his car to Jackal, his books to Yagyuu, and his money to Marui.

The redhead gaped like a fish. "Seriously?"

"'To buy a lifetime's worth of sweets, so that Jackal's burden would be lightened,'" qualified the bespectacled male, quoting from the paper.

The group dissolved into laughter.

Yanagi allowed himself to chuckle alongside them. After all, it had been a while since they had been able to laugh sincerely. Despite it being a wake, he was sure there was room for some lightheartedness. Yukimura would have preferred it this way.

* * *

Inui was not having an easy time. There was enough on his plate with the matter of Sergeant Tezuka and Officer Kaidoh's deaths, without adding the business of dealing with Sanada's body.

He didn't make his mood known in so many words, but he did arrange for the body to be buried like that of any other criminal who died in prison. He also took the time to send a missive to the Sanada family to notify them of Sanada Genichirou's death along with the notices of Tezuka and Kaidoh's deaths.

As expected, the press and the media immediately descended on the police headquarters, along with the outraged families of the recently deceased. Tezuka's clan, minor compared to Sanada's but still formidable, was outraged that their son had died for no apparent reason. Kaidoh's mother went into hysterics at the gate, and the ambulance had to be called to take her away. Meanwhile, the Sanada clan was staying aloof, pretending to be absolutely unaffected though rumors that Sanada Genichirou's mother was threatening suicide.

All in all, it was a most trying situation, especially when Inui was troubled over the outcome of his game with Yanagi. He was quite sure Yukimura too had died, as the other data master had been ignoring his attempts at contacting him since the day after Sanada was kidnapped. So the only question that remained was, who had died first?

Turning to his computer, he clicked the button that was the equivalent of a voice call for the umpteenth time. He wanted to clarify things with Yanagi, and if the other man was busy, then so be it. Inui would keep trying until he got through. After all, the bespectacled data master was known to be quite persevering.

* * *

Yanagi personally conducted the chemical process to turn Yukimura's ashes to diamond. The technology was known, but not easy and not cheap either. However, it being something like Yukimura's final request, Yanagi had no qualms whatsoever.

A few days later, he returned to the villa, a white gold ring with the diamond, brilliant-cut, set in it, Kirihara was not present, having accompanied Marui back to the city for a few days' jaunt.

The data master, absently fingering the smooth facets of the diamond, entered the house. His feet led him to Yukimura's study, the room where he had died.

Life, he reflected, was like an hourglass. Events took place, like each grain of sand trickling down, and they built up to a climax when the last, most important thing happened. Then everything turned upside down, and the whole cycle began again. Just as time turned, as life turned, as the world turned on its axis, spinning onwards into endless space.

_Was it worth it?_ he asked of the absent blunette. _Was it really what you wanted? Did you never falter, even at the last moment?_

The study was as clean as it had been before Sanada's arrival, but somehow the polished furnishings and pristine glass still held a sort of vague _memory_ of the bloody events that had taken place. Perhaps it was the too-new smell of lacquer, or the already-forming layer of dust that stood testimony to the fact that nobody dared disturb the immense, overbearing _silence_ of the room. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it was definitely there, a presence that was almost but not quite palpable.

_Are you there?_ he inquired of the empty air. _Do you regret it?_

Somehow, he felt Yukimura's answer in his bones. Yukimura did not regret his death. He had accomplished what he had wanted to do. He had died knowing that he had done all he could, said all he needed to say. And just as he'd expected, Sanada too had died, as planned.

Everything was right.

Yet Yanagi felt that something was missing, or not quite complete.

Almost as if in answer to his unspoken query, his cell phone beeped a message alert. The data master flipped it open.

[We still do not know who won. Since both died, the winner will be the one who died second. Who was it?]

Inui. The brunette sighed inwardly. His old friend could be rather obsessive about things at times.

{Yukimura died first.}

[I see. That means I won. Sorry for your loss.]

{You're not at all sorry.}

[I try to be polite and not gloat.]

{It's nothing to gloat over. This game was worthless as a gauge.}

[Oh? That sounds 93 percent like a sore loser.]

{I am merely stating a fact. I complied with your request for this to be a competition as a simple form of amusement. When I agreed to this game, I already knew that Yukimura was going to die by Sanada's hand.}

[The fact that this was a competition between you and I still stands.]

{I do not dispute that. However, I believe I am right in saying that Yukimura's death has affected me a lot more than Sanada's death has affected you.}

[Your point being?]

{Our emotional investments in this game, if you will, were quite different. It cannot be seen as a true competition. Especially as the end was a foregone conclusion. As it was, I thought it was quite enjoyable seeing your try to pull Sanada back from a sure-lose situation into a winning one.}

[If it was a sure-lose situation, then your foregone conclusion does not tally.]

{Sanada died in disgrace. Yukimura died in peace. If we look at it in that light, then Yukimura and I have won.}

There was a pause in the messages. Yanagi allowed himself a small smile. At this point, he really didn't care if he won or lost… though it would, of course, be nice if he _did_ win.

At last, another message came. [Very well. This game does not count. We shall have to hold another competition.]

Yanagi's smile broadened. {Certainly.}

The room was empty and seemed to yawn like a cavern with silence and death, but the garden outside was bright and bursting with life. Flowers rioted, made even more boisterous after the hard rain of about a week before. Insects buzzed, adding the dimension of sound to the already overpowering visual display. Against this, the bleak room with its painful memories seemed less bleak, less painful.

Rain reduced the world to shades of dull grey, but that only made the colors that bloomed in its wake seem even brighter. Rain turned the world dark, but formed rainbows as it moved away. Rain was the world's lifeblood, something that is of utmost importance but also something to be feared. Rain was the Sun's tears, washing the world's sins away and bringing a brighter, more beautiful tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: And this is the end. I feel rather sad that it's all over now, actually. Hopefully you've all enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. ^^ It's darker than anything I've written before, and I like to think that it's not too bad for a first try in the multichapter-hurt/comfort/angst/romance genres.**

**I hope this is an appropriate ending for this fic – it was harder writing this ending than the climax in the previous chapter where they were killing each other O.o probably because I was trying to tie in the idea of the rain again as well as tie up the loose ends I could find. Also, I hope you are overall satisfied with this fic in spite of the strange pairings (FujiXKirihara and Thrill Pair was not planned when I began writing! .). Please let me know what you think =)**

**If anyone thinks I should write an alternative ending where Sanada and Yukimura resolve their differences, do inform me and I'll think about writing it =D**

**Please Review! I'd love to hear your final opinions!**

**~ceru-chan**

**P.S. These are the translated lyrics of **_**Sunadokei**_**. I feel they are oddly appropriate to this fic, with several parallels that I could spot at a glance. It's not really necessary to the fic but I thought it'd be nice to add here.**

_Sunadokei_

_The soundless goodbye__  
__Was blurred by pain__  
__When you turned your back__  
__Tears suddenly spilled over___

_Then I searched for you__  
__In a maze I can't escape___

_How much pain can one heart bear?__  
__The hourglass falters__  
__On the last grain of sand___

_I believed in our meeting__  
__And in the love I felt__  
__I don't need anything else__  
__I thought that was everything___

_For some reason the more I love you__  
__The more I hurt you, and you hurt me___

_How much easier would it be if I could forget?__  
__The hourglass falters__  
__On the last grain of sand, but...___

_How much pain can one heart bear?__  
__The hourglass falters__  
__On the last grain of sand, but...___

_How much easier would it be if I could forget?__  
__The hourglass falters__  
__On the last grain of sand___

_It's always faltering_

**Once again, thanks very much for reading and reviewing!**


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